


Make It Real

by Anonymous



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Magic, Quidditch
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-09-27 09:56:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 24,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17159870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Castiel Milton is the first wizard in his family to be sorted into Gryffindor instead of Slytherin and his friendship with the Winchesters brothers has branded him a blood traitor, so he already has a notorious reputation at Hogwarts even before his brother's ex-girlfriend starts showing an interest in him.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [greengirltt](https://archiveofourown.org/users/greengirltt/gifts).



Castiel Milton was well aware of his reputation at Hogwarts.

It started literally the very first day of school, the day after he was sorted into Gryffindor. He was the first Milton in centuries not to be sorted into Slytherin, and he guessed that for people like his family, people who cared about blood purity and that sort of thing, it really mattered. It certainly mattered to Lucifer and Michael, his two oldest brothers who had a constant feud going on and had expected to recruit Castiel to one of their sides.

Luckily, it didn’t seem to matter to Sam Winchester, the half-blood boy that he’d met in the train to Hogwarts.

“I know what you mean,” Sam had said when Castiel had told him about his brothers and how they were constantly trying to one-up each other. “My family has a lot of expectations, too. My granddad wants my brother and me to be Aurors like him when we finish school.”

“And what do you want to do?”

Sam thought about it for a long while.

“I want to work for the Ministry, but not as an Auror,” he concluded. “There are a lot of other things I could do. What do you want to do?”

Castiel wasn’t quite sure, but he figured he had seven long years to think about it.

Though the rumors followed him for a couple of years, eventually it got easier. His brothers had backed off and stopped mocking him for being a Gryffindor. In fact, after Castiel became very close with Sam and his older brother, Dean, they had stopped talking to him altogether. Michael and Lucifer outright called him “a blood traitor” and the only thing they seemed to agree on was that his actions were shameful and he was to be ignored at all times. Gabriel and Raphael weren’t as bad, but they still didn’t understand why Castiel insisted on spending time with the Winchesters or why he’d joined the Quidditch team during his third year.

“You’re just rubbing salt in the wound at this point,” Gabriel had told him once. “Cas, the best thing for you would be to lower your head and wait for school to be over. I promise you, all of this is not going to matter a few years down the line.”

“If it’s not going to matter, why am I the one who needs to back down?” Castiel asked, tilting his head.

Gabriel had left his room shaking his head and muttering under his breath that Castiel was asking for trouble at that point.

But Castiel didn’t ask for trouble. He just tried to do his best, get his homework done and spend time with his friends. He didn’t really ask for much.

Now, in his fifth year and getting ready for his OWL exams, he was pretty sure that there would be no more surprises in store for him. Michael had left Hogwarts last year and Lucifer was in his seventh year, so the tension around the school was lessened somewhat. He expected no surprises.

And then, one day in the middle of October, Meg Masters came to sit in front of him in the library.

She dropped her books in front of him on the table, so harshly the students around him shushed or glared at them.

Castiel glanced at her but continued writing his History of Magic essay on the third goblin revolt without paying much attention to her.

She cleared her throat. Loudly.

He looked up again.

“Umh… did you need anything?” he asked her, frowning.

“Yes, actually.” Meg smiled at him and twisted one of her brunette locks between her fingers. “Can you help me with this Charms exercise? I can’t seem to get the hang of it.”

She might as well have taken her wand out and stunned him, because he had no idea what to say to that.

He knew Meg Masters. Like the Miltons, hers was an old pureblood family, so he knew of her and her brother Tom even before he actually met them at Hogwarts. She was in the same year as him and they shared a few classes. Sometimes, when there was a Quidditch match between their houses coming up, she would taunt him and Dean along with her friends. Mostly he knew her because she was one of the several girls who hunged around Lucifer at all times, competing to be the one on his arm next. Castiel had no idea what they saw in his brother, but that was how it was.

And he was definitely not friends with Meg.

“Why… why are you asking me?”

“Well, you’re very good at Charms, aren’t you?” she said, tilting her head. “Please? I’m really having trouble with it.”

“Umh…”

Castiel narrowed her eyes at her. To say he didn’t trust her would be an understatement. He was completely sure there were ulterior motives for her to be asking something like this from him, but he couldn’t put his finger on the reason. She didn’t seem particularly nefarious, sitting there with her big brown eyes fixed on him and her green and silver tie. Knowing the people she ran with, though, he couldn’t be blamed for being suspicious.

“I’m busy…”

“This will only take a moment,” she insisted. She pushed her books and notes towards him and walked around the table to come sit next to him. “I just can’t get the hang of the right way to move the wand.”

And short of shoving her or storming out of the library, which would have been rude, Castiel really didn’t have a choice but to help her now.

Meg pulled out her wand and he spent the next five minutes showing her how to correctly hold it and move it for the spell to work. It seemed like she genuinely needed some help with it: her wrist was too rigid and it made her movements choppy.

“You need to… here.” Castiel placed a hand on hers and accompanied her movements slowly. “Like this. Do you see? Smooth. Slow.”

Meg said nothing, just let him guide her movements for a moment. When Castiel looked down at her, he realized she had somehow managed to move her chair even closer to his. Her leg was grazing his under the table and her eyes looked bigger than before, perhaps because her face was now so close to his.

“Yes,” she whispered. “I see.”

She leaned her head even closer and before Castiel had the time to ask what the hell she thought she was doing, someone dropped a pile of books to their left. Meg startled and moved back as Castiel instinctively turned her head to the noise.

It had been another Slytherin girl. (Ruby? Was her name Ruby something?). She stared at them with wide eyes, but quickly looked away and started picking up her books.

Meg stood up almost immediately.

“Well, thank you, Castiel. I think I’ll just keep practicing in private,” she declared.

In the blink of an eye, she had picked up her stuff from the table and left.

Castiel tried to go back to his essay, but he just couldn’t concentrate on it again. The whole episode had been so bizarre and every time he soaked his quill, he just kept it hanging over the parchment, thinking about Meg’s eyes until the ink dropped from the tip.

In the end, he gave up, picked up his stuff and headed for the common room to leave them there before supper.

At least Sam and Dean agreed with him that the whole thing had been extremely strange.

“Are you sure she didn’t hex you while you weren’t looking?” Dean asked. “Check your robes. Maybe she put something in them.”

“I don’t think she did,” Castiel said, but he nervously patted his pockets anyway.

“Maybe she just… really needed help with the charm,” Sam suggested. Both Dean and Castiel looked at him with raised eyebrows. “Yeah, I don’t think so either,” Sam admitted.

“Well, whatever it was…”

Dean didn’t get to finish the sentence.

Lucifer had approached the Gryffindor table, flanked as usual by at least two other Slytherins. One was a boy named Guy and the other was the same Slytherin girl that had spotted him in the library with Meg.

“Move, Winchesters,” Lucifer ordered, sticking his chin up in the air with his same usual arrogance. “I need to have a chat with my little brother.”

“Woah, we would, but you know, Luci… bite us,” Dean said.

Lucifer’s grey eyes glimmered at the insult. He leaned over so he was right up on Dean’s face.

“I don’t remember asking you, you little…”

“Leave him alone!” Sam demanded, standing up. His fist was tightly clenched around his wand.

Lucifer turned his attention to him, a little smirk spreading through his lips.

“Oh, Sammy, Sammy…” he started.

“Stop,” Castiel said, softly.

Professor Singer was looking in their direction. Castiel had no doubt that he would split them if they actually started fighting, but he didn’t want to risk his friends getting in trouble.

“Let’s go talk somewhere else,” he said, standing up.

Sam and Dean went to stand up as well, but Castiel shook his head at them. He could handle Lucifer and a couple of his bullies.

They took a few steps out of the Great Hall before Castiel turned towards him.

“What is this about?” he asked, trying to sound bored by the entire business already.

“Like you don’t know,” Lucifer said. His voice dropped an octave. “I don’t know what you think you’re doing, but let me give you a warning, brother: she will eat you alive.”

For the second time in as many hours, Castiel found himself confused beyond words.

“Who are we talking about?” he asked, frowning.

Lucifer huffed and shook his head, slightly exasperated.

“Fine, if that is how you want to play it,” he said. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you. This cannot end well for you, Castiel.”

“Very well,” Castiel said. “I… consider myself warned.”

His brother took a step backwards. His eyes now were ice cold as they moved up and down Castiel.

“I don’t know what is it about you. First the Winchesters and now that girl. You really need to learn to pick who you associate with better.”

And having said that, he turned and walked away from him followed closely by his entourage.

Castiel stayed in the hallway a little longer, trying to process what he’d just said.

Did he mean…? Did this have something to do with…?

The Winchesters found him two seconds later. Unsurprisingly, they both had their wands drawn, as if they were ready to fight Lucifer if they found he was up to something.

“Hey,” Dean said, putting away his wand. “What did Lucifer want?”

“I… I think he thinks I’m dating Meg Masters,” Castiel said.

Bothe brothers laughed out loudly, as if Castiel had just told them the most hilarious joke they’d heard in a while.

Sam was the first one to realize that Castiel was completely serious.

“What?” he asked, elbowing Dean in the ribs to shut him up. “What are you…? For real?”

“Why the hell would he want something like that?” Dean said, rubbing the spot where his brother had hit him.

“I don’t know,” Castiel said. “But I guess we need to find out now.”

 

* * *

 

Becky Rosen was a fourth year Ravenclaw, though the thirst for knowledge that her house was supposed to have manifested mostly as a thirst for gossip.

“Alright, so last year, Lucifer took Meg out on a weekend at Hogsmeade and they dated right up until the summer,” she explained to them when they went up to her and asked her point blank what she knew about it. “But then, just a few weeks ago, he dumped Meg and started dating Lilith Evanson, from sixth year. They say Meg was so furious that she tried to slip a potion in Lilith’s pumpkin juice.”

“How come she knows more about this than you do?” Dean asked, mildly impressed.

“I’ve stopped trying to keep up with whatever Lucifer is doing,” Castiel admitted.

“Thank you very much, Becky,” Sam told her.

Becky’s face grew bright red.

“Anything for you, Sam!” she said, giggling. “And if you need me to find out anything else, just tell me!”

The three thanked her again and headed back for the castle.

“So… Meg is trying to cozy up to you to get back at Lucifer,” Sam concluded after a while.

“That seems to be the most reasonable conclusion, yes.”

“What are you going to do about it?” Dean asked.

“Tell her to stop,” Castiel said. “I managed to stay out of my brothers’ petty feuds while Michael was still in Hogwarts, I’m not about to start one myself now.”

Sam nodded, approving of that plan, but Dean stroke his chin pensively.

“I don’t know. I mean, if Lucifer came to tell you to quit it, then it means it works and she got under his skin, right?” he pointed out.

“Dean, no,” Sam said.

“I’m just saying. Masters is definitely very easy on the eyes…”

“We’re not having this conversation,” Castiel said, bluntly. “It’s not going to happen. I’m not going to unnecessarily antagonize my brother.”

“Mate, everything you do antagonizes your brother,” Dean pointed out. “Including being friends with us.”

“Yes, and Lucifer has made your life hard in the past because of it,” Castiel reminded them. “So I am not giving him any more reasons.”

 

* * *

 

A few days later, Meg found him in the library once again.

“Hi,” she said, as she settled her books in front of him. “So I think I got the charm right, but now…”

“Stop,” Castiel interrupted her before she could say another word. He looked around, but being Friday meant there were very few people in the library and he had chosen a secluded table anyway. “I know what you’re trying to do.”

It gave him a bit of satisfaction to see her taken aback. She let out a weak laugh and also looked around before leaning over.

“What do you think I’m trying to do?”

“You’re trying to be my friend to annoy Lucifer.”

“Oh, no.” Meg threw her hair back. “I’m trying to _date you_ to annoy Lucifer.”

Castiel stared at her. He didn’t really think she was going to come out and admit it, but her grin indicated that she thought this was the best idea ever.

“Why… would you…?”

“You’re his least favorite brother. He thinks you’re a blood traitor,” Meg said, with a shrug. “He even respects Michael more than he does you. It would be quite a kick to his ego if I were to move on from him by dating you.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Castiel tilted his head.

“I thought you’d appreciate the honesty.” She smiled again. “So, what do you say?”

It took a few minutes for Castiel to find his voice.

“No,” he said in the end.

Meg scoffed.

“Fine. Your loss, then.”

She didn’t seem offended or disappointed in any way as she picked up her things and shoved them inside of her backpack. He kept looking at her, because he simply couldn’t wrap his head around… everything she had going on.

“What?” she asked when she noticed it.

“You… what would _you_ win from being seen dating a blood traitor?”

“I told you. Petty revenge,” she said, simply. “Also, I think Lucifer has a huge blind spot when it comes to that. Pureblood status is nice… but it isn’t everything.”

And with that, she stood up and left the library. Despite his attempts not to, Castiel followed her with his eyes until she disappeared.

He hadn’t expected that comment to come from her. He’d just assumed that she was just as elitist as the rest of the Slytherins and purebloods he’d met in his life, but perhaps, in a way, she was smarter than them just by recognizing this.

But then he remembered that she had tried to drag him into her dramatics, so he pushed those thoughts aside. Really, all he wanted was to do well in his OWLs and enjoy his time with the Winchesters.

In hindsight, he should have known it wasn’t going to be that easy.

 

* * *

 

It was Becky, of all people, who alerted him of the fight.

He was on his way to the common room from his last class of the day, wondering if Sam would be up for a game of chess, when Becky came running towards him, her robes flapping about as she did.

“Cas, Castiel!” she shouted and startled a group of second year Hufflepuffs. She gripped Castiel by the arm tight, her eyes wide open in fear. “You have to stop it!”

“Stop what?” Castiel asked, confused and surprised. “Becky, calm down. What are you talking about?”

“By the lake!” Becky said. “Your brother and Sam, they’re dueling and…!”

She didn’t need to say anything else. Castiel turned heel and ran down the staircases, past the Great Hall and heading directly to the doors, with Becky close behind him urging him to go faster.

They almost crashed into Professor Singer on the way.

“Woah, there. Where’s the fire?” he asked them, frowning at them from underneath his hat.

Castiel ignored him and kept running while Becky stayed back to inform him. Professor Singer might have been able to do something, but he knew Lucifer all too well. He could talk his way out of a punishment and find a way to justify what he was doing.

But Castiel wasn’t going to let him.

There was a small group of students near the lake, screaming and cheering on. Castiel mercilessly shoved, stomped on feet and elbowed people in their ribs or faces as he made his way to the front. The spectacle that awaited him on the front was worse than what he’d imagined.

Sam was on his knees on the floor, retching loudly. By his side, Dean alternated between rubbing his back and holding his wand up to keep Lucifer and two of his other guys, advancing on them with grins in their faces.

“What is it, Winchester?” Lucifer asked. “You can’t take any more?”

“You… filthy little son of a…!” Dean mumbled.

“Guess I have to wash your mouth too, don’t I, you filthy little mudblood?”

Lucifer raised his wand… just as Castiel jumped to put himself between the Winchesters and his brother.

“Stand back!” he repeated, drawing his own wand.

A tense silence fell around them, as if all the students watching the duel suddenly held their breath. Lucifer’s eyes grew ever so slightly wilder, as he raised his chin at him. He seemed surprised, but not because Castiel had jumped to the Winchesters’ defense.

“Really, little brother?” he asked, tilting his head. “You would go against me?”

“You won’t hurt Sam Winchester,” Castiel asserted. “I won’t let you!”

Lucifer threw his head back and let out a loud, prolonged laugh. “ _Let me_?”

When he lowered his eyes, Castiel sucked in a breath. He always knew that Lucifer was a bully, but what he was seeing in him right now shook him to the core. His grey eyes were cold, empty, almost as if there was nothing behind them.

“How exactly do you plan to stop me?” Lucifer whispered.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

The spectators parted and ran away like a flock of startled doves. Professor Singer walked past them briskly, scowling at them. Lucifer immediately put his wand away.

“Professor! We were just…”

“Bullying my students?” Professor Singer interrupted him. “Winchester, take your brother to the infirmary.”

“This isn’t what it looks like, professor,” Lucifer said, as Dean help Sam stagger to his feet. “You see, I…”

“Spare me, Milton. I already know everything I need to know,” Professor Singer interrupted him.

Becky popped her head from behind the professor’s back, only to hide away again the moment Lucifer glanced at her.

“Twenty points from Slytherin,” Professor Singer said. “And we’re going to find an appropriate punishment for you, right now.”

“Oh, of course, professor,” Lucifer said, lowering his face and trying to look contrite. “If you think that’s appropriate, perhaps we can talk to Professor Crowley…”

Professor Singer didn’t want to hear any more. He grabbed Lucifer’s arm and pulled from him, in a display of anger that Castiel had rarely seen. He reflexively took a step backwards.

“Oh, no. You’re not just going to weasel your way out of this,” Professor Singer said. “Crowley would let you go with a slap on the wrist, but I am not about to do the same.”

Lucifer clenched his jaw and glared at the professor. For a moment, Castiel was convinced he was going to say something rude at the professor, but at the last moment, he relaxed and smiled bitterly.

“Very well, professor. If you truly think that’s what’s best…”

Professor Singer practically dragged Lucifer away, while the spectators, who hadn’t run that very far, watched them with astonishment. It was maybe the first time a Milton really got into trouble for something they had done and Castiel was certain the incident would be talked and wildly distorted by the end of the week.

“Do you think Sam is hurt?” Becky asked. There were tears brimming on the edge of her eyes.

Castiel awkwardly put a hand on her shoulder and squeezed, trying to console her.

“How about we go check on him?”

Dean was waiting outside the Hospital Wing, walking up and down the hallway, his lips tightened and his fists clenched.

“Madame Moseley told me to wait here,” he told Castiel and Becky as soon as they approached him. “We don’t even know what kind of hex Lucifer used on him. He wouldn’t stop vomiting.”

“Dean, I am so sorry.”

“No, I’m sorry,” Dean said, stopping. “I’m going to kill your brother.”

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea. You could get expelled.”

“Well, I am going to do _something_!” Dean insisted, furious. “This isn’t going to end like this!”

“Aren’t you cute?” a husky voice interrupted them.

Castiel already knew what he was going to find before he turned around. Meg was standing at the end of the hall, leaning against the wall and with her arms folded over her chest. Her smile was casual and calm, as if all of this was a joke she found only mildly amusing.

Dean wrinkled his nose in disgust.

“What do _you_ want?”

“I’m just a concerned classmate.” Meg lifted her hands to show she came unarmed as she approached them. “Heard about the little scuffle your brother and my ex had by the lake, but sadly too late for me to get there and help.”

“Like you would have helped.”

“It’s true!” Meg insisted, shaking her head as if the fact that Dean doubted her good intentions offended her greatly. “But you can believe whatever you want about me. I’m not really here for you. How’s your brother?”

That question came so abruptly that it disconcerted both Castiel and Dean. They exchanged a confused look, but apparently, Becky knew what this was all about.

“Oh, no! No!” she said, stepping up to Meg and wagging a finger at her. “You’re not going to wrap Sam up in one your… your… devious schemes!”

“Devious schemes?” Meg repeated, with a chuckle. “What do you think this is, Rosen?”

“You couldn’t get Castiel to date you to make Lucifer jealous!” Becky accused Meg. “So now you’re going after Sam!”

In a twisted way, that made a lot of sense. If there was anyone in the school that Lucifer could hate more than his blood traitor of a brother, they were probably the friends that had turned him into blood traitors.

Meg had probably thought it too, because her smirk became a tense grimace as she took a step forwards to get right up on Becky’s face. She was at least a head taller and had one more year of magic education under her belt than the Ravenclaw girl, but Castiel didn’t think Meg would waste time with magic if she was furious enough.

“You know, if I were you, Rosen, I’d keep my nose out of other people’s business,” she said, lowering her voice an octave so it came out as a menacing whisper. “That is, of course, if you want to keep it.”

Becky instinctively covered her nose with both her hands.

“Alright, that’s enough!” Castiel said. He grabbed Meg by the arm and pulled her away from Becky. “You and I need to talk.”

Meg pursed her lips at him, clearly annoyed. Castiel noticed, very inopportunely, just how plump and red they were.

He tried to shove those thoughts to the back of his mind as he escorted Meg down the hall and away from Dean and Becky’s ears.

“This is not a good time,” he said. “Lucifer appears to have seriously harm Sam and we don’t have time for your petty revenge plans.”

“Are you serious?” Meg chuckled again. “One, Lucifer is not that stupid that he’d harm someone in a way serious enough that’ll he get in too much trouble. And second of all, my revenge plans are anything but petty.”

“Oh, so you’re not planning on dating someone Lucifer hates just to annoy him?”

“No.” Meg’s grin grew to occupy her whole face. “I want to have him expelled.”

She said it with such confidence, as if it was a done deal already, as if whatever she was planning was so foolproof it couldn’t possibly fail that Castiel stared at her, baffled.

“How exactly are you going about doing that?”

“You must think I’m an idiot on top of being petty.” She rolled her eyes at him. “I’m not gonna count scales before all the dragons hatch.”

Castiel didn’t feel any particular loyalty towards Lucifer and sometimes he, himself, thought his life would be so much better if Lucifer was out of Hogwarts. But at the same time…

“He’s a Milton,” he reminded Meg. “He’s Professor Crowley’s favorite. He’d…”

“I know exactly what I’m up against, Castiel,” she replied, with a shrug as if to dismiss any and all of his protests. “Trust me. You Gryffindors might not know how to pick your battles, but I’m not going to war unless I’m sure I’m going to win.”

And with that, she turned her back on him and walked away.

Castiel stayed where he was, trying not to think about the faint smell of lavender that lingered in the air even after Meg had walked away. Was that her perfume or…?

“Cas,” Becky called him from around the corner. “Madame Moseley says we can come in to see Sam.”

Sam looked sickly pale and he was still holding a bucket near, as if Madam Moseley’s counter-hex hadn’t been enough to stop his violent vomiting. He still tried to smile at them when they walked in.

“Hey, guys.”

“How are you feeling, Sammy?” Dean asked, pulling up a chair to sit by his brother.

“I’m fine. Don’t worry about me,” Sam said. “You should be doing your homework.”

“Oh, come on, man,” Dean complained. There was a smirk on his lips, though, as if this was a discussion he and Sam had had so many times that it was like a well-rehearsed play. “Let me worry about you for a little bit before you get up in my arse about homework.”

“Your NEWTs…” Sam said, but stopped himself. He heaved and pulled the bucket closer.

“Oh, no, Sam!” Becky said, running her hands through Sam sweaty hair. “Are you alright?”

Sam’s answer was only more vomiting as everyone around his bed waited.

“Yeah,” he mumbled when he could speak again. “Madame Moseley says it’s better if I just… let it all out. It should be over in a couple of hours, but she wants to keep me under observation for the night. Hey, Cas, can you do me a favor?”

“Anything you need,” Castiel agreed.

“I think I’m going to have to borrow your notes…”

He interrupted himself to vomit again, at which point Madam Mosely showed up and ordered them out of the hospital wing.

“Oh, poor Sam!” Becky said as they walked down the hall together. “What do you think that spell even was? It just seems so… persistent.”

Castiel had never heard a better way to describe his brother’s magic.

“Listen, Becky. I think Sam would feel better if he had anything to read. How about you go and get something for him to do just that?”

Becky’s eyes lit up with this new idea.

“Yes! I will go to the library and get something for him to read right now!”

She spun on her heels and ran on the opposite direction.

“Why’d you do that for?” Dean asked. “Sam already has a hard night ahead of him enough as it is…”

“Because I didn’t want to say what Meg told me in front of her.”

He told Dean about Meg’s plan as they walked back to the Gryffindor tower.

“How is she going to…?”

“I don’t know, and honestly, I think the less we know, the best it’ll be for us.”

They gave the Fat Lady the password. The common room was full of people from different years (mostly girls) who flocked to them almost immediately to find out about Sam’s wellbeing. Dean informed them that Sam was spending the night in the Hospital Wing and that yes, he would be very happy to have people visit him the following day.

Castiel moved away from the small crowd as soon as he could and started climbing the stairs, but before he could reach the top, a hand came to rest on his shoulder.

“If you don’t want to do it, I will.”

Castiel stopped with a foot in mid-air, almost forgetting to put it back down.

“What?”

“Fake date Meg,” Dean said, nodding as if it was the most obvious thing. “Listen, I get why you wouldn’t want to be a part of this. But your brother has to be stopped and I’m willing to bite the bullet.”

“What bullet? No one’s firing at anyone.”

“It’s a… a muggle expression,” Dean said, pinching his nose. “The point is, I’m gonna go to her tomorrow and tell her I’m in. I don’t know what she’s up to, but I’m willing to give it a shot. And I don’t know if Lucifer will have it out for me as much as he has it out for Sam, but I’m sure Meg will take me.”

Castiel blinked at him owlishly, unable to find an answer to that. Dean was too serious about this, pursing his lips and narrowing his eyes.

And perhaps it was better to let him do it. Castiel wasn’t worried about Lucifer: if he was dumb enough to fall for a trap that a girl he’d broken up with had set, then he sort of deserved anything that happened to him. He didn’t want to antagonize any of his brothers the way Lucifer and Michael had antagonized each other, mostly because it was more trouble than it was worth.

But then again, Castiel already had a reputation in his family as a trouble-maker, as a blood traitor.

And he was still thinking about the lavender scent that floated near Meg, and her full lips, and her big brown eyes…

“No. If somebody has to do it, I will,” Castiel heard himself saying, as if the words were coming out of someone else’s mouth. “It’s my brother. I have to deal with this.”

Dean nodded, as if what Castiel was saying made all the sense in the world. In fact, Castiel was already sure it was a bad idea.

“What happened with Lucifer today?” he wanted to know.

Dean took in a deep breath and shook his head.

“He said some things about our mom,” he answered. And that would’ve been bad enough, because Castiel knew that losing their mother at a young age had a negative impact in Sam and Dean’s life and that was an issue they were very sensitive about. But Dean added: “He sort of implied she died because she married a muggle.”

And that was all Castiel needed to hear to know that he wasn’t going to back down from Meg’s plan at all.

 

* * *

 

He found Meg the following day having breakfast alone in a corner of the Slytherin table while holding a book in front of her face. Castiel sat down next to her, attracting the gazes of several Slytherins and more than one Gryffindor. Meg looked up surprised at him, but she said nothing.

“I’m… we… I want in,” Castiel said. He hoped he didn’t need to clarify exactly what he meant.

Meg slowly put her book down.

“Are you sure?” she asked, arching an eyebrow. “Because I’m for real, Castiel. If I succeed…”

“I have my doubts you will,” Castiel replied, point blank. “But I’m not willing to tolerate the way he treats my friends without attempting to fight back.”

Meg said nothing again. When Castiel looked at her again, she was smirking.

“Alright, then. So… fight back we shall.”

It didn’t take long for Castiel to realize that she had a very strange idea of what “fighting back” really meant. It started innocent enough: with her coming to talk to him between classes about something she hadn’t quite understood and supposedly needed his help with (Castiel suspected she had no such problems in fact) or sitting in the same table at the library to study with him.

People stared at them, apparently very interested in the sort of friendship that those two could have possibly developed.

“I’m not sure what this is supposed to accomplish,” Castiel told her the day she announced they were ready to walk hand in hand towards one of the classes Gryffindors and Slytherins shared.

“Trust me. It will accomplish a lot.”

She intertwined her fingers with his and Castiel’s heart skipped a beat. He couldn’t have explained why and if someone had asked him, he probably would have denied that such a thing had happened to begin with. But her hand was warm in his and her lavender scent invaded his nostrils and suddenly, he stopped noticing if people were staring or not.

She said something, but it took Castiel a second to realize she was talking to him.

“What?”

“The Hogsmeade visit,” she repeated, with a huff, almost as if she thought he wasn’t paying attention purely to make her angry. “We should go together.”

“What? Why?” Castiel asked, frowning. “I… I usually go with Sam and Dean…”

“Well, you can’t this time. It would be weird if you brought them along for our date.”

That threw him in for a loop.

“We have a…? We have a date?”

“Yes.” Meg halted by the classroom’s door and looked up at him. “And you better think of something good, you hear me?”

Before Castiel could ask her why she was leaving that part to him, she did something that made him forget how to speak: she stood on the tip of her toes and pressed her lips to the edge of his.

It wasn’t a kiss proper. She moved away almost immediately and then walked inside the classroom without giving him another look.

But Castiel stood where he was, bewildered and with his heart pounding very hard until Professor Mills came up to the door.

“You feeling okay, Mr. Milton?” she asked him.

“What? Yes. Yes, I’m fine,” Castiel managed to murmur.

“Well, then get inside and take a seat,” Professor Mills ordered him.

Castiel did so still, wondering why he suddenly felt like the floor underneath his feet was much softer, as if it was made of clouds.


	2. Chapter 2

Sam and Dean weren’t of much help at breakfast the following day when he told them what Meg had said.

“Why is she asking you to plan the date? I thought she was the master plan behind everything?” Dean asked.

“She probably wants it to look authentic,” Sam said. “You know, like you’re actually into her, trying to impress her and whatnot.”

“But I don’t know how to impress her,” Castiel argued. Dean and Sam looked at him quizzically, so he cleared his throat and rephrased that: “I mean, I don’t know how I would go about it if any of this was real.”

“Why is it that important?” Sam huffed. “All of this is madness, guys. I don’t know why you think it’s going to work at all.”

Sam hadn’t been too enthralled with the idea of Castiel “dating” Meg when they’d told her what he was doing and why after he returned from the Hospital Wing. Even after a few weeks of mostly just studying or walking around with Meg, he still seemed to believe it was a bad idea and that Castiel was doing some sort of extraordinary sacrifice in order to get back at Lucifer.

“I just don’t trust Meg, and trying to get someone expelled, even if it is Lucifer, just seems a little too much. Don’t count on me, you guys.”

“Okay, but we still need some place that Castiel can take Meg,” Dean insisted. He also had manifested he had doubts with the overall plan, but unlike Sam, he didn’t seem to think it was all a waste of time. “Hey, Becky!”

Becky, who was casually passing by their table, stopped and smiled at them.

“Hello, boys,” she said, twisting a lock of her hair between her fingers again. “Hi, Sam!”

Sam waved at her awkwardly.

“So, you’re a girl, right?” Dean asked. “Would you happen to know of a place in Hogsmeade where a guy might take a date he wants to impress?”

“Well, there are several… why?” Becky interrupted herself, shooting them a look of distrust. “Are you going to take someone out on a date?”

“Me? Oh, no. No. Neither is Sam, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Sam clenched his jaw and rolled his eyes at his brother, but Dean continued as if he hadn’t noticed it:

“But Cas, here, has a lady friend that he wants to take somewhere special.”

Castiel shot him a warning look. Telling that to Becky was guarantee that even the ghosts would find out about his upcoming “date”. Then again, he wasn’t sure Meg would be opposed to that.

“Oh.” Becky didn’t seem any less suspicious after that clarification, but she still offered her input: “Try Madame Hanscum’s Tea Shop. They say it’s really nice. I’ve never been,” she clarified. “But you know, if someone invited me…”

“Thank you, Becky. That’s most useful.”

Becky shot another longing look at Sam and continued on her way.

“Madame Hanscum’s Tea Shop,” Castiel repeated. It was the first time in his life that he heard of it and he had been visiting Hogmseade even before he’d come to Hogwarts. “What kind of place is that?”

It turned out to be a small shop with a pink door and frosted windows, even though winter hadn’t technically arrived yet. Meg and Castiel stood outside of the door, both looking at it skeptically.

“Well, that is not tacky at all,” she commented, pointing at one of the decorations over the window: it showed a carving of daisy chains, all pink as well and very small.

“If you don’t like it, we can go somewhere else…”

“No. I guess I should have expected this is the kind of place you’d bring a girl,” Meg said, with a sigh. “Let’s just go in.”

Castiel opened the door and held it for her. If they were supposed to be giving the appearance that they were on a date, he might as well go ahead and act as if it was an actual one.

The interior of the tea shop matched the exterior perfectly. The tables were small, clearly designed for only two people to sit on them at a time, decorated with lacy napkins and bows on the mantelpieces decorated with more flower patterns. The whole place smelled like roses and jasmine.

A blonde, plump witch welcomed them at the door.

“Hello! Sit down wherever you want!” she said, with a chirpy tone. “I’ll be with you right away!”

Meg led the way to one of the private booths by the corner, with Castiel trotting behind her. The entire shop was filled with couples seating away from each other, some holding hands, giggling or kissing over their cups of tea. Castiel didn’t recognize anyone from Hogwarts, but that didn’t mean much. He’d always been rather introverted, and even sitting in front of Meg at that moment, even knowing none of this was real, made him terribly uncomfortable.

“So, umh…” he started.

Meg turned to look at him, but Madame Hanscum was back before they could even start a conversation.

“What do I bring you, dears? We have several kinds of tea and types of cake if you want to try that…”

“Just coffee, thanks,” Meg said, curtly. “Black.”

Madame Hanscum seemed taken aback, so Castiel tried to smile at her with calm.

“Me too, please.”

The witch seemed disappointed that they didn’t want to try any of their cakes, but she quickly left them alone.

“Alright, don’t look now, but I think that’s Garth Fitzgerald from Hufflepuff with Bess Myers. I said don’t look now!” she added sharply when Castiel started turning his head. He quickly set her eyes back on her and she chuckled. “Where did you even find this place?”

“It was… recommended to me,” Castiel said, refusing to add who it was recommended by. He was sure Meg would laugh even louder if he told her. “So, uh…”

“I would’ve preferred the Three Broomsticks, but I guess this’ll have to do.” She shrugged. Madame Hanscum returned with their coffee cups, but Meg said nothing more until the witch left them alone again. “So, after this, I’m going to officially be your girlfriend.”

Castiel choked on his coffee.

“Oh… but…” he started saying.

“I think we should establish what that entails,” Meg continued, disregarding his awkwardness completely. “We’re going to have to spend our free time together between classes and study together for the OWLs whenever we can.”

“Oh. So… like we’re doing right now.”

“Yes, exactly. Only… more.” Meg tried her coffee, but it was impossible to tell from her expression what she thought of it. “Also we’re going to hold hands a lot more. And you’re going to have to carry my books.”

“Very well…”

“And snog where Lucifer or one of his lackeys can see us.”

Castiel was happy that he wasn’t drinking this time, because he certainly couldn’t handle the casual way in which she said that.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Well, it has to be believable,” Meg said, with a shrug. “So what are you gonna do?”

Castiel scoffed. He just… he couldn’t believe…

“You _have_ kissed a girl before, haven’t you?”

“Yes. Of course.”

He hoped his obvious lie wouldn’t show up in his face, but he wasn’t sure just how convincing he truly was.

“Oh, boy,” Meg sighed. “Well, okay, your turn.”

“My…?”

“What do you expect me to do?” she asked. “What would you expect your girlfriend to do for you?”

“I… I don’t know,” Castiel mumbled.

“Come on, there has to be something. Think.”

Castiel looked down at the dark liquid on his coffee cup, as if he was going to find the answer there. He was tempted to say that it didn’t matter anyway and he wasn’t sure how any of this was going to help them to get back at Lucifer and…

“Wait, there is something,” he said, raising his head. “When Dean was dating Jo Harvelle, she usually came to practices and the matches to watch him play.”

“The… matches?” Meg repeated, frowning.

Castiel held on to the precious moment of having been the one who baffled Meg this time, because he wasn’t sure it was going to last much longer.

“The Quidditch matches.”

“Oh.” Meg closed her eyes and then she repeated, with a more disgusted tone: “ _Oh_.”

“Is there a problem with that?”

“No,” she said, a little too fast for it to be believable. She drank more of her coffee, her nose wrinkled, though it was hard to tell if it was at her beverage or at the concept of having to watch a Quidditch game. “It’s just… I don’t really _get_ Quidditch.”

“You don’t…?” Castiel repeated, the scope of what she was saying only then dawning on him. “You’ve never…? But your brother, he was Keeper…”

“I mean, yeah, Tom was a little obsessed with Quidditch,” she said, with a shrug. “But it was never my thing, you know? I just don’t see what’s so interesting about it.”

Castiel stared at her, open-mouthed.

“What?” Meg asked, sheepishly.

“It’s a good thing this isn’t real,” Castiel replied. “Because that might be a deal breaker.”

“You boys and your brooms.” She scoffed. “You know, Lucifer might be an arse, but he never bored me with talk about flying balls.”

“It’s not… it’s not _boring_ , how can you say…?” Castiel began protesting, but he stopped dead when he realized that Meg was smiling with her mouth closed, as if she was holding back something.

She was teasing him. She was making fun of him and barely holding back her laughter.

“Why would you say something like that?” he asked, and that was enough to get her to burst into laughter.

“Oh, God, you should’ve seen your face!” Meg lowered her cup and kept laughing as if she had just told the most hilarious joke in the world. “That was amazing!”

“It’s not funny,” Castiel protested. “Stop laughing.”

Except that her laughter was crystalline and contagious and despite his best efforts to stay mad at her, soon he found himself chuckling as well.

“But do you really hate Quidditch?” he asked when he could catch his breath, which send Meg into another giggling fit.

“I don’t _hate_ it,” she replied after a moment. “It’s just… I never particularly cared for it. After my brother left Hogwarts, I didn’t have a reason to go watch the games anymore.”

“You don’t support your house’s team?”

“It’s not that important,” she huffed. It sounded as if she’d had this conversation in the past many times and she was tired of it. “The Quidditch Cup, the House Cup… it’s all so… irrelevant. It’s going to be irrelevant when we leave, so I want to save my energy for something that really matters.”

Castiel found himself speechless. He’d thought that being a Slytherin meant that she was just as competitive as the rest of her house. His brothers were always trying to one-up each other. Even Gabriel, who was in his sixth year and insisted over and over that he didn’t care for that sort of thing, was always very pointedly trying to prove just how little he cared. A lot of effort went into his not-caring attitude.

Meg, however, seemed to be genuinely unconcerned with things the rest of her house (and the rest of the school as well) considered important. Or at least, she managed to seem much more genuine than Gabriel.

“And what’s more important?” Castiel asked her.

She turned her full attention to him and his stomach became tied up on a knot. He didn’t know why he kept having those reactions to her, but he hoped they would stop soon.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, if you… don’t care about anything that happens in Hogwarts, then you care about what comes afterwards,” he pointed out. “So what is that?”

She licked her licks, pensive. Castiel wished she hadn’t, because now he was fixating on her lips again and he could barely pay attention to her answer.

“You know, I think I’ll have to get back to you on that,” she said in the end. “But I know what I don’t want to be, and that’s a damn arm candy wife to Lucifer.”

That threw him for a loop again.

“If you don’t care about resuming your relationship with him, then why are you so obsessed with getting revenge?”

“Pride, mostly,” she admitted. “He dumped me via owl.”

“Oh, no.” Even Castiel, who had little to none experience with relationships, knew that wasn’t polite.

“Yup. The thing about Lucifer is that he can be so charming you forget about everyone who warned you about how he treats the girls he dates. It’s like we’re accessories to him: he wants the prettiest one, with a pureblood surname old enough to match his. And when we refuse to do what he wants or be what he wants, he dumps us for the next one. Well, one day that was going to come back to bite him in the ass. So I figured… why not me?” She made a sudden pause and opened and closed her mouth again. “You… I mean… he’s your brother…”

“Yes, and I agree with everything you just said,” Castiel replied. “It’s not just him, though. My entire family, they seem to think that if we are exactly what we’re supposed to be… I don’t know. I don’t know what they expect to happen. My father…” His voice trailed off, but he didn’t have to continue for her to understand.

“Lucifer told me,” she said. “He travels a lot for his job, doesn’t he?”

“He’s never home,” Castiel confirmed. “And when he is, he locks himself away in his studio, so he might as well not be. Michael has had to take care of all of us, for ages. I think Lucifer resents that, he resents that Michael has always treated him like a child, but… he’s done with the best of intentions. He has been wrong many times, about many things, but he’s never been ill-intentioned.” He stopped and bit the inside of his cheek for a moment. “I… I never told that to anyone.”

Meg cleared her throat, apparently as confused by confession as he was. They drank their coffee in silence for a moment.

“Do you really think you’re going to find something that will Lucifer expelled?” Castiel asked in the end.

“I mean, if bullying half-bloods and muggleborns doesn’t do the trick…” Meg said, shrugging. “Here’s the thing: while I was dating him, he was always going on and on about all the wonderful and powerful things he could that he would show me one day, when I had proven I could be trusted.”

“What sorts of things?” Castiel asked, frowning. Meg simply looked at him until he deduced it. “Dark magic. You think he is…?”

“Call it a hunch.” She shrugged again. “But if you thought the same thing as me, that means we both believe that he is capable of it.”

Castiel was surprised at the fact that he wasn’t really surprised by this revelation. Lucifer had always thought highly of himself, he was arrogant enough to believe that he could use dark magic without any of the consequences other wizards could suffer from doing the same. And he was ambitious, more than just about anyone Castiel had ever known. If he thought black magic was going to get him what he wanted, to be more powerful than Michael, more renowned that their own father, well, he wasn’t above breaking those rules to achieve it.

Which made him a powerful enemy to have, but Meg didn’t seem concerned about it, so Castiel tried not to be as well.

“If he is exploring or using dark magic, that would merit him being expelled,” he pointed out. “But do you really think you can find enough evidence to prove it?”

“I’m gonna have to get close to him again to find out,” she said, simply. “And that’s what this is all about.”

Castiel was starting to see Meg’s plan a little more clearly now. If she was Lucifer’s girlfriend again, she could find dirt on him and use it to get him into trouble with the school. But still…

“How exactly is this going to help you do that?”

“Because Lucifer doesn’t like it when people play with his toys,” Meg said, with a smile. “The moment he realizes you and I are serious, he’s going to throw an amazing hissy fit and want me back.”

“And how can I know that you’re not doing all of this just to get back with him?”

“Well… you’re just going to have to trust me,” she replied, grinning again.

Castiel wasn’t sure he did trust her, but it was hard to tell what exactly he felt about her. She excused herself to the bathroom and stood up. Castiel followed her steps with his eyes, trying to figure exactly what his thoughts were at this point. After they’d relaxed, they’d actually managed to have an interesting conversation. He’d never told anybody how he really felt about his family and the things she’d said about wanting something bigger than what she currently had…

Fascination, he decided when she came back to the table. He felt fascinated by this fearless little witch that was going up against a suspected dark wizard just because he’d scorned her.

It didn’t help that she also was very pretty. Castiel noticed her lips were plumper and redder than before she got up.

“Alright, so how about we cap off this date with a romantic stroll through the town?” she suggested.

Castiel found nothing to object to that plan. They paid Madame Hanscum (“Thank you, come back again soon!”) and left the tea shop. The autumn night had dropped several degrees and there was a cold wind blowing. Unthinkingly, Castiel took off his jacket and draped it over Meg’s shoulders. She looked at him with an amused smile.

“Nice. Now we really look authentic.”

Castiel was tempted to tell her that he hadn’t done it thinking about that, but then she moved closer and grabbed his hand and as it was starting to be increasingly usual, all his thoughts became scattered. All he could think about was the warmth of her hand on his, the scent of lavender that floated in the air every time the breeze moved her hair, and how small she seemed walking next to him…

Suddenly, Meg grabbed him by the shirt and pulled the both of them against the nearest wall. Castiel stumbled and found himself with his body inches away from hers, as she looked up to him with wide, bright eyes.

“Kiss me,” she muttered.

“What?”

“Oh, just… just…”

Without another word, she put her free hand behind his head and pulled him down. The lavender scent invaded his nose while his lips crashed into hers clumsily, artlessly. He didn’t even have time to close his eyes before she let go of him. He stared at her in surprise, trembling, unsure what to do.

He only knew that his heart was pounding fast and his head was spinning and he didn’t ever, ever, want to come down from what he was feeling right then.

So he lowered his face and kissed her again.

It was different this time. Her lips were parted, expecting and warm. She tasted like Madam Hanscum’s coffee and, oddly enough, strawberries. He moved away a little, but only until she let go of his hand to wrap her arms around his head and pulled him down once again. Her tongue caressed him and sent a shiver down his spine, feelings like small fireworks exploding in his blood, something he’d never thought he would feel…

Their breaths formed white spirals in the air when they finally broke away, but Castiel had never felt less cold in his life. Meg was watching him with half-opened eyes.

“Huh,” she muttered. “You… you’re not half bad at this.”

Castiel wasn’t sure if that was a compliment or not and he really didn’t particularly care to find out. He was about to lower his face and kiss her again when someone cleared his throat by their side.

He wasn’t surprised to find Lucifer standing near them when he lifted up his head. He immediately pulled his hands away from Meg’s waist (he wasn’t even sure when he’d put them there) but she immediately intertwined her fingers with his again and made him stay exactly where he was.

“Hello, Lucifer,” she greeted him with a grin.

“Meg,” he said, coldly. “Do you mind? I need to have a little chat with my brother.”

Meg lifted her eyes at Castiel. He didn’t know what he was supposed to do now. Lucifer had obviously seen them snogging and that was probably what Meg wanted, but now that he was actually confronting them, and he wasn’t sure what…

Meg squeezed his hand and crooked an eyebrow and suddenly, Castiel understood.

“Umh… actually, I’m a little busy right now,” he said. “I have to walk Meg back to the castle. So, uh… maybe later?”

Lucifer’s grey eyes glimmered with fury, but his tone was calm when he replied:

“Very well. We’ll talk soon.”

He somehow made it sound like a threat, but the truth was, Castiel had a very hard time caring about that.

It was hard to care about anything when Meg was pulling him away and walking so close next to him.

She laughed again when they war far away enough that Lucifer couldn’t hear them.

“Oh, that was golden!” she said. “Did you see his face?”

“I believe we are, as you say, getting under his skin,” Castiel agreed.

“We’re doing so much more than that.” She threw her hair back, smiling. “You know, even if we can’t prove he’s doing something against school rules, we can always have fun just bothering him.”

“I thought you were above petty revenge.”

“Oh, no.” Meg shook her head. “I’m definitely not.”

 

* * *

 

“Dating” Meg made the weeks leading up to Christmas very strange.

Mainly because Castiel was supposed to act like they were actually dating, while he and his friends knew well enough that they actually weren’t. So while they continued to walk to classrooms holding hands and sitting together to study, there were also moments when, inevitably, Meg ended up clashing with Sam, Dean and some other of his Gryffindor friends.

“Why is she here?” Charlie Bradbury asked, pointing at the stands with an accusing finger.

Meg was sitting there, shivering in her robes, with a silver and green scarf around her neck. She had a book open over her knees, but she was too busy hugging herself and looking around to really read it.

“Oh,” Castiel muttered. He hadn’t expected her to actually show up. “Umh… I guess she came to see me.”

The six other members of the Quidditch team looked at him with distrust.

“She can’t be here!” Charlie insisted. “She’s going to tell her house’s team all about our strategies.”

“I don’t really think we have anything to worry about on that front,” Castiel said. “Meg doesn’t really pay attention to Quidditch.”

“Then why is she dating ya?” Benny Lafitte asked, frowning.

“She… I…” Castiel mumbled awkwardly.

“Look, guys, it doesn’t matter,” Dean said, jumping to his defense. “Castiel is finally seeing a girl. We all know how hard it is for him to do something like that. Let’s cut him some slack.”

“Thank you, Dean,” Castiel said, hoping the sarcasm in his voice wasn’t too obvious.

“I say we vote on it,” Gwen Campbell said. She was Sam and Dean’s cousin on their mother’s side, but other than Quidditch, they had very little in common with her.

“There’s nothing to vote. If you were dating other people, they would be allowed to come and see the practices,” Sam defended Castiel.

“Uh… yeah. Because we wouldn’t be dating the enemy,” Dorothy Baum pointed out.

“Meg is not the enemy,” Castiel tried to argue. “She really only barely understands Quidditch. Look. Meg!” he shouted.

She lifted her head in their direction.

“What position do I play?”

“Umh… you’re one of the guys with the bat?” she tried to guess.

Castiel turned to his team, opening his arms if he had proven his entire point. Benny and Dorothy were the team’s Beaters, he was one of the Chasers.

“She could be faking that,” Charlie suggested.

“Guys, I think you’re missing the point here,” Dean argued.

“What is the point, exactly?”

“Lucifer’s face when his ex-girl comes to see us play and roots for our team.”

Apparently, the possibility of spiting Lucifer overrode the general distrust for Slytherins, because that settled the argument and Meg was allowed to stay and assist to the rest of the practices.

Not that she really wanted to. Every time Castiel landed his broom next to her, she looked like she was ready to turn heel and run the other way.

“Isn’t it cold up there while you fly?” she asked him as they headed back to the castle, with the snowflakes spiraling down around them. The grounds would be covered in white by Christmas.

“Yes, slightly,” Castiel admitted. “The adrenaline keeps you warm, though.”

“I can’t imagine there’s enough adrenaline in the world to make me fly through a bloody snowstorm.”

“It’s barely drizzling,” Castiel argued, though he couldn’t help but to laugh at the idea. Charlie was so obsessed with winning the Cup that she would have them fly through a snowstorm. “What do you have against flying anyway?”

“Nothing!”

The way she stopped holding his hand to cross her arms over her chest and how she looked away, though, made him suspect she was outright lying about it.

“Are you afraid of it?”

“No,” she protested, still not looking at him. “Of course not, why would I be? That’s ridiculous.”

Castiel put a hand on her shoulder, which granted him a glare from her.

“You are, aren’t you? You’re afraid of flying.”

“Shut up!” she protested. She turned from him and marched inside of the castle.

“That’s why you don’t like Quidditch!” he kept deducing as he trotted behind her. “You don’t like watching people fly.”

“No, I don’t like it because it’s a stupid, dumb sport that…”

She went quiet, because Castiel had come closer to her, smiling wide and cornering her against the wall.

“Is that really true?” he asked her. “Do you even know how to ride a broom?”

“Don’t get cute,” she protested.

Castiel laughed and lowered his face…

Meg put a hand on his shoulder and stopped him before he could kiss her.

Of all the downsides about “dating” Meg, this had to be the worst one. Castiel, for some dumb reason that he couldn’t even explain to himself, wanted to kiss her again and again, but he wasn’t free to do it whenever he wanted. There had to be someone watching them, Meg insisted every time.

First she only kissed him if there were Slytherins that could take the message back to Lucifer around. Then she said it would be suspicious if other people didn’t also see them kiss, so she started doing it around others as well: a brief peck on the cheek or the edge of the lips when they went their separate ways on the hallways, a deeper one when they were sitting together during their free time or when they left the library after studying together.

Castiel’s heart fluttered every time and he had trouble not pulling her closer or insisting they went to the nearest empty classroom to keep doing that. It wasn’t supposed to be real, he reminded himself every time. They were just pretending to get back at Lucifer, to find out if he was doing something that broke the school’s rules.

He still had trouble remembering it sometimes, but luckily for him, Meg was always ready to remind him: with a subtle gesture, with a look, with a simple shake of her head whenever he was crossing a line that was there for a reason.

He stepped back and gave her an apologetic smile.

“Right. I’m sorry.”

She said nothing. Usually on those situations she muttered something along the lines of “It doesn’t matter” or “Forget about it”, but this time…

“Did you Lucifer tell you something?”

The question disconcerted him for a moment.

“Well… no, not really,” he admitted. “He has been throwing me dirty looks since he saw us together in Hogsmeade, but he hasn’t really tried talking to me.”

Meg made a noncommittal sound. If she thought there was something odd about that, she didn’t express it out loud.

“I’m sorry, Meg, but…”

“I don’t really know if this is working,” Meg admitted with a huff of frustration. “Without some sort of reaction from him, I can’t know if we’re doing enough to really make him angry.”

She resumed her walking, with Castiel a few steps behind, holding his broom on his shoulder without really daring to say anything for a moment.

“And what if we just… forgot about him?” he suggested.

Meg stopped on her tracks again.

“What do you mean?”

Castiel opened and closed his mouth, like a fish out of the water, because he wasn’t exactly sure just what did he mean. He wanted Meg to stop considering him a means to an end. He wanted to be able her to kiss her even if there weren’t any witnesses. He wanted to walk with her hand in hand in Hogsmeade and be sure she was coming to the Quidditch practices to see him.

But he didn’t know how to ask for that. And even if he had known, he had no way of knowing if Meg would be on board with that plan or if she’d consider him an idiot for actually starting liking her when she’d made it clear from the beginning this was all about Lucifer after all.

“Nothing,” he said in the end. “Forget it.”

He walked past her, decided to never suggest anything of the sorts again, but before he could get very far, she placed her hand on his arm and stopped him from getting any further away.

“Cas…” she muttered.

It was stupid how his stomach flipped when she said his name like that. It was stupid that his face for flushed when her eyes met his and it was really, really stupid that he was still looking at her lips, as if they were magnets whose pull he couldn’t resist…

“Do you… do you have any idea what you’re asking for?”

Her question befuddled him enough that he stopped thinking for two seconds about how pretty she really was.

“I was…”

“They would never let us be,” she continued. “You saw how your friends reacted today to me being there to watch you practice.”

“I don’t really care about what they think.”

“But it’s not just them.” Meg’s hand slid away and she took a step backwards. “It’s everyone. Your brothers… my family. You’re just…”

Her voice trailed off, but the truth was, she didn’t need to finish that thought.

“I’m what?” he asked, feeling a cold anger flaring up inside of his guts. “A blood traitor? It’s that what you were going to say?”

Meg crossed her arms but avoided his gaze.

“I thought you didn’t care about those sorts of things,” he continued.

“I don’t,” she insisted. “But so many do. It’s not that simple.”

“And of course, you wouldn’t want to ruin your prospects by actually dating someone like me,” Castiel said, coldly.

“Oh, spare me,” she shot back, irritated. “You knew from the beginning that this wasn’t something that was going to last. We were in it together for a reason, and as soon as we get what we both want, we can go our separate ways and you can date a girl who doesn’t care about people talking about her behind her back.”

Castiel raised his chin at her.

“If that is really so important to you, then you’re not the person I thought you were, Meg.”

She scoffed, as if she thought his comment was downright stupid, but he obtained a bitter satisfaction from seeing the way her cheeks grew redder.

“I’m not even sure what made you think you knew me at all in the first place.”

She turned around, her black hair floating behind her, and stomped away without letting Castiel get another word in.

“Meg!” he called her once, though he didn’t know what exactly he was going to tell her if she turned to him again.

She didn’t, though. She left him alone in the hallway, holding his broom and his irritation all at once.

Sam and Dean noticed there was something wrong the moment he entered the common room, threw his broom to the side and flopped down on his favorite armchair, scowling and not trying to get into the conversation they were having.

The Winchesters exchanged quick looks and silently played a game of rock-paper-scissors. Dean lost.

“Hey, Cas, mate,” he muttered. “You feeling alright?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Castiel asked. The brothers said nothing and he figured there was no point in trying to lie about it. “It’s… Meg.”

“What about Meg?”

Castiel didn’t know how to explain it. He didn’t know how to tell his friends that they had been right all along (well, Sam had been, in any case) and this had been a terrible idea from the beginning.

He didn’t know why he’d gone along with it in the first place.

No, he did know. It was because he thought that Meg wouldn’t have been interested in him unless he agreed to be a part of her plan. And he was right. Of course she never would have never even looked at him unless it was to make believe.

He didn’t say any of that out loud. Even if his friends would have found it in them to console him over a situation he himself had got into, it still would have been to humiliated to express the truth out loud.

He had fallen for his brother’s ex-girlfriend that he barely knew. How pathetic was that?

“It’s… her plan is not working and that makes her cranky,” he said instead. “And well… that’s honestly not something anyone wants to be around.”

“Well, of course not.” Sam rolled his eyes. “I honestly don’t know why you kept it up for so long. Lucifer was very unlikely to fall for it in the first place.”

It was a point of consideration. Castiel had avoided thinking about because… well, precisely because he had been so busy marveling at the sensation of Meg’s kisses. Lucifer must have known this was what she was up to all along and hadn’t tried to approach him about it again because of it. His brother was too smart to let some jealousy make him lose his head.

Dean, however, was obviously thinking something else.

“Uh… maybe you should use that to your advantage,” he said.

“What thing?” Castiel asked, not understanding where he was going with this.

“Lucifer thinking he knows what all of this is ultimately about,” Dean explained. “I mean, he’s a cocky bastard, yes? You should use that against him.”

Despite his anguish and his anger, Castiel leaned over, willing to listen.

“How exactly do you suggest I do that?”

Sam closed the book he was reading and he headed upstairs to their room, muttering something about how this was going to blow up in their faces.

Castiel didn’t particularly care about that. The fact that he could still smell Meg’s lavender perfume meant that he was way past the point of doing something he could come to regret.


	3. Chapter 3

“Lucifer, can I talk to you?”

His brother looked over his shoulder, raising an eyebrow in surprise. He had an arm slung over a blonde girl Castiel didn’t know (Lilith, he deduced, unless Becky’s gossip was already outdated) and was, as usual, surrounded by a group of Slytherins that all stared at him like they didn’t know whether to mock him or to scream at him to go away.

“It’s alright, everyone,” Lucifer told them. His lips twitched, almost as if he was holding back the impulse to smile wide. “If my little brother says he needs my advice, how can I say no?”

Castiel was almost tempted to point out that at no point he’d said that he needed Lucifer’s advice, but it was best not to provoke him.

Lucifer grabbed Lilith’s hand, placed a soft kiss on her knuckles and sent her away along with the rest of his entourage so he and Castiel were alone. Or as alone as they could be outside of the Great Hall around breakfast.

“Now, what was it that you needed, Castiel?”

Castiel didn’t have to feign how uncomfortable he felt.

“You… you tried to warn me,” he said, softly.

This time the twitch in his brother’s mouth became a full on grin.

“Oh?”

“About Meg,” Castiel said. “I paid no attention because I thought… well, I thought you were just being obnoxious about me dating your ex.”

“You thought that was what I was worried about?” Lucifer let out a laughter that was almost a cackle. “Castiel, I have no problem if you want to have my scraps, of course. But Meg is a social climber. She doesn’t care about you or me. I am pretty sure she would even take Gabriel if that guaranteed her a spot within our family.”

Castiel had to resist the urge to argue with that notion. He reminded himself that wasn’t what he had come there to do.

“Her… demands. She has a lot of them. And Christmas is coming up. I was thinking… maybe you could suggest a gift that I could give her?” He lowered his eyes and then lifted them up to Lucifer again. “Something she will, uh…” He lifted his fingers and drew air quotes as he finished his sentence: “’Enjoy’”.

“Ah. I see.” Lucifer nodded. “Well… Meg is very fond of… flying and heights.” He winked at Castiel. “So… perhaps a romantic broomstick ride will show her just how much you care about her.”

In a way, Castiel had to admire just how diabolical that was. If he’d been asking for actual, genuine advice on how to please Meg, Lucifer would’ve managed to destroy any trust that might have bloomed between the two. And since Castiel was apparently asking about something that would definitely upset her, Lucifer was suggesting he did the worst possible thing that Meg could imagine, something that would undoubtedly terrorize her beyond words.

Castiel was genuinely wondering what so many girls had seen in him.

“Very well. I will plan for that,” he said instead. “Thank you.”

He was going to turn around and leave it there when Lucifer called him again.

“I hope you have learned your lesson, little brother. When I warn you about something, there’s a reason for it.”

“Yes. I am seeing that now,” Castiel replied.

Lucifer smiled and put a hand on his shoulder.

“If you have any other questions or doubts, come talk to me,” he encouraged him. “I know we don’t see eye to eye about a lot of issues, but I’m sure I can give you some valuable advice that you could use in the future. I’m looking out for you.”

Castiel blinked slowly. That was so unlike Lucifer that he had to wonder just what he was up to and what did he need Castiel for. And what was he going to ask in exchange for said advice.

“I appreciate that. I… I have to go now.”

“Very well.” Lucifer released him with another polite smile. “Good luck.”

So now he had an excuse to break up with Meg over Christmas.

All he needed to do was convince her to get on a broom with him.

 

* * *

 

“Do we really have to?” she asked him when he explained to her what his plan was. She cringed hard and shuddered, as if the mere thought of being somewhere above the ground was enough to make her nervous. “I mean, can’t we just fake we went for the ride and that I was very angry with you?”

“You mean, like we’ve had faked everything else about this relationship?” Castiel asked. “It’s possible.”

Meg leaned back on her chair and tapped her fingers over her book.

“Look…”

“Meg,” he interrupted her. “It’s fine. Really, it is. You made it clear from the beginning what you expected from all of this. I am the one who got mixed up. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable in any way. I just…” He trailed off, unsure of how to finish that phrase. “I just… we just need to focus on what’s important here. Lucifer wants us to break-up, which means you were right. You’ve managed to make him care about what you and I are doing and we need to take this chance.”

Meg stared at him in silence for several long, uncomfortable seconds. Castiel licked his lips and was about to ask her if they should attribute their impending break-up to something different, but in the end, she nodded.

“Yes. I might not have another chance like this.” She went quiet, reflexive in a way Castiel had never seen her before. Her eyes looked darker for some reason when she turned them back to him. “Alright, so… how are we going to go about this?”

Castiel leaned his head forwards and in whispers, they hashed out the details of the plan: he was going to make it known that he was preparing a very special surprise for her as a Christmas gift, a grand gesture that would require a lot of witnesses. After he’d taken her up in the air in his broomstick, probably with coercion by Sam and Dean, if they agreed to participate in the plan, they could end their relationship in a very public manner.

And that would be that.

“Maybe we can break up before you even get on the broomstick,” Castiel suggested. “It wouldn’t be strange for anyone that you refused to do it.”

Meg nodded.

“Yes. That could work.”

And there was really not much else that they could talk about, really. They each focused on the books and notes in front of them. The OWLs still seemed like a million years away, but as Sam kept reminding him, they would be there faster than any of them could possibly imagine.

Castiel wondered how he was supposed to give his attention to that when he knew that he would have to study without Meg’s company from them on.

They stayed in silence until Mister Walker announced that he was closing the library soon and that they all needed to pick up their stuff and leave for supper. Castiel wasn’t really hungry. As he always did, he helped Meg pick up her books and offered her his hand as they walked outside.

He hadn’t expected this sense of melancholy to completely close his throat, to prevent her to speak to her in any way. He also didn’t expect Meg to stop suddenly, pulling from him until he was standing right in front of her, their faces inches from one another.

Mainly because there was no one but them in that place. Everyone who had been in the library had left already.

“What are you…?” he started asking, but she quieted him by standing on the tip of her toes and searching his mouth with hers.

Castiel closed his eyes, not caring why she was doing that. It might have been the last time he had the chance to taste her, to breath in her lavender scent, and he was decided to try to make the most out of it: to remember the softness of her lips, the warmth of her hand on his.

When they broke away, Meg licked her lips and whispered:

“Not all of it was fake.”

She let go of him and disappeared down the hallway before Castiel could really understand or try to make sense of what she’d said.

 

* * *

 

Meg would be returning home for Christmas while he, as it was usual, would stay in Hogwarts for the holidays. That meant they still had enough public around to witness their stunt with the attempted broomstick ride and the following fight the day the classes ended and before most of the students headed home.

Castiel waited around the Quidditch grounds, his broomstick in hand, wrapped tightly in his thickest jacket. It was snowing slightly and the night would be falling soon, so it wasn’t really the greatest flying conditions, which was why it was good that they didn’t actually have to fly. There were a few scattered people around: Dorothy and Charlie lazily hit a Bludger with their bats and, on the edge of the field, a second-year Hufflepuff was doing some tentative levitation with his broom. Not nearly as many public as they were expecting, but it’d have to do.

Finally, after several minutes of waiting in the cold, Dean and Sam finally showed up, each with a hand on Meg’s shoulders, guiding her along. They had to, because they had taken the precaution of blindfolding her as well. Becky, some Gryffindors, and a couple of Slytherins were all coming behind them, muttering between each other with curiosity.

“You better not make me fall on the lake, Winchesters!” Meg threatened them. “I swear, I will hex you so hard your grandchildren will still be cursed.”

“We’re not in the lake,” Sam assured her.

“You ready for your surprise?” Dean asked.

With a dramatic gesture, he removed the blindfold. Meg stood, blinking in the fading winter light, looking around at the curious witnesses the Winchesters had managed to gather and then at Castiel.

“All I see is my boyfriend,” she said, tilting her head. “Which is nice, but hardly a surprise.”

Despite knowing that it was all an act, a play that was coming to an end, Castiel found himself smiling. He was going to miss her constant sarcastic remarks and her frankly bleak sense of humor.

Why hadn’t he told her all those little things he liked about her? That had been real, why didn’t he think about telling her that?

Now it was too late for any such declarations.

He extended one hand forwards, offering it to her, while he held on to the broom with the other, smiling as if he thought this was the greatest idea in the entire world.

Meg’s nervous step back wasn’t feigned. Neither was the way she eyed the broom, as if she expected to jump from Castiel’s hand and start attacking her. Her laughter, as if she was trying to pass it all off as a grand joke, did ring a little forced to Castiel’s ears, but since only him and the Winchesters were in on what was going to happen, perhaps no one else would really notice something like that.

“Come on now,” Meg said. “What’s the big surprise?”

“It’s this,” Castiel said, showing her the broom again. “We’re going out for a ride. I’m sure you’ll love it.”

He wasn’t sure how convincing that came out, but given the very short amount of public they had to perform for, he wasn’t sure it really mattered all that much. He waited for Meg to start yelling at him, to tell him what a horrible and inconsiderate idea all of this was… but she surprised him once more by coming closer to him.

“Will it be safe?” she asked.

“Uh…” Castiel looked around, as if he expected a clue on what he was supposed to say to that. Obviously, the Winchesters just shrugged and no one else could offer any kind of advice. “If… if you hold on tight.”

She wasn’t following the script. Castiel wasn’t sure they even had a script anymore. She simply kept staring at him as if she expected him to say something else, but he had no idea what it was.

“You, uh…” he mumbled.

She placed her fingers on the handle, gracing his as she did so and threw her head back, with the same insolence and calm that she usually had.

“I won’t let go, then.”

Castiel was still waiting for her to back off and start shouting at him, but as soon as they were both position over the shaft, she placed her arms around his waist and stayed there. She squeezed and let out a soft yelp when he kicked the ground and they began to float away, but at no point did she made any attempt to back off. Castiel looked over her shoulder, which only made her hold on tighter.

“Keep an eye where you’re going!” she demanded.

“We… you weren’t supposed to…” he started arguing, but she shook her head.

“You take me for a coward, Cas?”

So that was what it was. She wasn’t willing to let her pride be harm in such a public and obvious way, so she was going to do something that terrified her in order to save face.

Castiel was never not going to be fascinated by her.

They were still only a few feet in the air, so Castiel offered to go down at that point.

“I think we’ve done enough to prove you’re not a coward.”

“No. Go higher.”

Once again, Castiel wondered just what the hell they were supposed to achieve with this, but he decided not to argue. They kept rising, the wind blowing around their coats and scarves. He discreetly moved the handle so they would settle into a nice, slow flow, because the higher they went, the more they needed to move so that they could keep their balance. Meg wasn’t that much of a weight in his broom, but he didn’t want to risk the both of them falling and creating some serious damage.

“Are you okay?” he asked her.

Meg sank her head between his shoulder blades with a sigh.

“Yeah. Fine for now,” she said. She moved her head a little. “They all look… so small.”

Castiel looked down as well. He could distinguish the Winchesters among the small crowd that had gathered underneath, but that was because they were both very tall. The rest of their classmates was a blur of colors and faces, all looking up at them, expectant.

Or maybe he thought they were expectant. It was hard to tell from that distance and the wonderful thing was… it didn’t really matter. Up there, all their plans and machinations, all the problems and the judgment seemed so insignificant…

He let out a chuckle. Meg’s hands clasped him just a little tighter.

“What’s so funny?”

“I guess I do have to scare you now, don’t I?”

Meg groaned loudly.

“You better not knock me down, do you hear me?”

“I’ll try,” Castiel said.

“What do you mean you’ll try?! Castiel…!”

The rest of her words dissolved into a scream as Castiel leaned forwards. The broom shot faster, passing by the goalposts, and away from the breaches. This was not nearly as far as he could go, but by the way Meg shouted and sank her nails on his stomach, he figured it was more than enough for her.

“You’re doing great!” Castiel congratulated her. “We’re going to do some spins now, okay?”

“What spins? No!”

They weren’t spins like what that Castiel usually did when he was playing and flying to avoid being hit by Bludgers and players trying to steal the Quaffle from him, when he would spin around in the broom so fast the world around him became nothing but a blur and his stomach flipped.

No, this time he only spun a couple of times, stopping after each loop to make sure they didn’t lose their grip. The broom was heavier and slower, but he still managed to move quite fast with it. Meg clung unto him, yelling curses with each movement and change in direction.

“I hate you!” she shouted. “I swear, I hate you!”

“You’ve had enough? We can come down whenever you want us to,” he offered her, as they flew past the goalposts once more.

The wind in his ears didn’t let him hear what she said next.

“What?”

“I said, fine! That’s enough!”

Castiel headed for the bleachers. He oriented the shaft so they could land on top of them, his feet graciously touching the wood as they descended.

Meg, for once, wasn’t as gracious. She stumbled away from him, her legs trembling slightly. Castiel had to catch her arm to help her stabilize at the same time he dropped the broom to the side to hold her.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

Meg was pale and shaking in his arms, but when she looked up, she smirked at him with her same usual cheekiness.

“That, uh… that wasn’t as bad as I imagined,” she admitted in a whisper.

“Oh.” Castiel blinked at her, disconcerted. “I… I thought you were supposed to hate it entirely.”

“Right.”

She moved away from him, straightened her back… and slapped him right across the face.

The hit echoed through his ears. The pain was striking and sudden and Castiel could do little more than step back, rubbing his cheek and staring at her with eyes wide open.

“How dare you, Castiel Milton?!” she shouted at him, furious. “That was the most horrible thing I’ve ever gone through!”

“Um… I’m… I thought…” Castiel mumbled, partially aware that all the people waiting for them on the ground were probably now hanging on their every word.

“Don’t ever talk to me again!” Meg warned him.

Still with insecure steps, she turned from him and started climbing down the stairs. Castiel rubbed his cheek once more and followed her quickly.

“Meg! Wait, Meg! I’m sorry!”

Meg had already passed by the small crowd and was striding back to the castle without even turning to look over her shoulder. Castiel half-heartedly jogged behind her, but stopped not too long after. Meg could move really fast when she wanted, and besides, he could see the crowd’s eyes boring into the back of his skull as they came closer to him.

“Well… that didn’t turn out great,” Dean said, and patted him in the back with commiseration.

 

* * *

 

The rumor about the “break up” extended quite fast for it being only a handful of people left in the castle. Castiel spent most of the Christmas break in the common room, catching up on homework and playing chess with Sam and Dean. He was faintly aware that some people stared at him and whispered about how he had terrified his girlfriend with the broomstick ride and how they were calling him an idiot under his breath, but he tried not to pay attention to it.

It felt… so strange. Meg hadn’t really been his girlfriend, but not being with her anymore meant that he didn’t get to do all the things he’d done alongside her until now. The idea that he wouldn’t have to walk to the staircase that lead to the Slytherin common room or that he would have to walk by himself on the hallways was far more depressing than he dared to admit.

He hadn’t expected it to feel like a real break up.

“So what’s the next step?”

Castiel stopped looking outside of the window and turned his attention to the brothers. Sam sighed noisily behind his book to express his disapproval while Dean stared at Castiel, expectant, the cards he was playing with forgotten in his hands.

“What?” he asked them. Had there been a conversation that he had missed or having been paying attention to?

“In Meg’s plan,” Dean clarified. “She got Lucifer’s attention again, she broke up with you. What’s the next step?”

“Oh.” Castiel rubbed the back of his head. “I’m not entirely sure. She didn’t share a lot of details with me, just… a general idea.”

“So now we just sit on our thumbs and wait,” Dean grumbled. “That’s just amazing. Am I the only one that’s beginning to think that this supposed ‘plan’ of hers” – He drew air quotes with his fingers – “was nothing but an excuse to snog with Castiel?”

“Well, that doesn’t make any sense,” Sam said. “If that was the goal, she could’ve gone on doing that without all the circus with the flying and the slap.”

Castiel absentmindedly rubbed the spot where Meg had hit him. It hadn’t hurt that bad, really, but he could still imagine the stinging sensation on his skin all the same.

He could also still see Meg looking up at him, her lips parted and glossy from just kissing him:

_It wasn’t all fake._

Sam had a point, though. If she wanted to be with him, she would just be with him, without scheming or even caring about what Lucifer thought of them. Or anyone, for that matter.

“But then what was she expecting to happen?” Dean insisted. “Like… was she waiting for Lucifer to come crawling back to her or what? I don’t get it.”

“Me neither,” Castiel admitted.

He looked forlornly at the dark night outside of their window. The winter wind blew against the Forbidden Forest’s branches and the snow fell so hard against the glass that it felt like a near constant tapping. They were the only people in the common room now. Everybody else had gone to sleep hours ago, but Castiel didn’t feel tired and Sam and Dean obviously didn’t feel like leaving him alone.

Somewhere, a bell started tolling over their heads. One, two, three… Castiel counted twelve strokes.

“Merry Christmas,” Sam muttered. He put down his book and stretched his hands above his head. “We should go to bed.”

“Yeah.” Dean yawned. “I need to be well-rested for the feast tomorrow…”

A loud knock on the window interrupted him, following by some hooting and angry flapping. Castiel looked outside, surprised, instinctively reached for the latch.

The thing that flew in was barely an owl, its dark grey feathers wet and in complete disarray as it tumbled inside, rolled over its back and landed in the middle of the carpet. It stayed immobile for a few seconds, while Castiel and the Winchesters exchanged a look, wondering if it was even alive.

“Should we…?” Sam began asking, but then the owl sprung back to life, hooting indignantly and shaking itself.

It jumped towards Castiel and stretched its leg. Castiel saw a package wrapped in wet brown paper and a sealed letter. He untied both and the owl flew towards the fireplace, where it stayed scowling at them and waiting for its feathers to dry out.

“What’s that?” Dean asked.

Castiel opened the letter, which had somehow survived enough of the stone for it to be legible, though the ink was smudged in places.

_Cas:_

_Cleopatra will definitely not be happy with me for sending her out in the middle of the snowstorm, but I needed to get this to you as soon as possible. Keep it hidden until I come back. DON’T LET ANYONE SEE IT. DON’T ANSWER TO THIS MESSAGE._

_Meg._

Castiel glanced at Cleopatra, who had her back turned to them now, as if to indicate that if they needed to send another letter, she was not going to do it.

“Well, what is it?” Dean asked, not even trying to pretend that he hadn’t read the letter over Castiel’s shoulder.

Castiel figured Meg’s warning didn’t apply to the Winchesters (they had been in on the plan from the beginning, after all) and picked up the package. It was small and rectangular and he was not surprised to see that, after tearing the brown paper, it contained a small, black book.

No, not a book, Castiel corrected himself as he opened it. It was a handwritten journal of what appeared to be spells, but there were two things wrong with it: the more pages he turned, the more the spells were less the kind of thing they were learning in class. They became darker and sinister, with vivid drawings of small animals like rats and lizards in various states of agony or pain. One showed a mouse, dead among what seemed to be a pool of its own vomit, with the note: “Died of dehydration” in the margin.

The second thing that was wrong with it was that it was all Lucifer’s handwriting.

As if he needed any more confirmation, Sam looked suddenly pale at the illustration of the dehydrated mouse.

“That’s… that’s the hex Lucifer used on me.”

Castiel almost dropped the notebook in revulsion, but with trembling hands, he managed to just put it back down on the table.

“That’s… that’s it, isn’t it?” Dean asked, his eyes opening wide in surprise. “That’s the proof that Lucifer is doing… that he’s practicing… how did Meg even get this?” he finished, as if he couldn’t bring himself to pronounce the words.

“I don’t know,” Castiel said.

“What are we supposed to do now?” Sam asked.

“I don’t know!”

The Winchesters stared at him, wide-eyed, as Castiel started pacing around the common room.

He didn’t know why, but this changed things entirely. It was one thing to suspect that his brother was curious about dark magic and that he might have tried to learn about it. It was another to know that he was actively using it and that he intended to cause harm to people with it. He’d always known Lucifer wasn’t the greatest person, but he was still his brother and he never could have thought that he was such a monster that he would…

Dean’s hand came to rest on his shoulder.

“Cas… you need to tell someone.”

“Who am I going to tell?” Castiel replied, with a bitter laugh. “My father? Michael? Professor Singer?”

“I don’t know,” Dean admitted. “But this just can’t… he can’t just…”

“Woah, alright, listen,” Sam interrupted them. “We need to really think about this for a second. First of all, we don’t know if anyone is going to believe that this belongs to Lucifer.”

“It’s his,” Castiel said, somberly. “I know it is.”

“Okay, but people are going to have questions,” Sam continued. “Like, how did you get it? Where did you find it? Lucifer is going to deny that it’s his until the end of time and not everyone in your family will be so ready to believe it either. If people knew what he’s doing, he could get expelled. Dammit, some of these hexes are so gruesome he could go to Azkaban for creating them.”

Castiel looked up at the ceiling, sighing. Dean was right about everything, but…

“What is your point?”

“We can’t act in a rush,” his friend said. “Meg is right. We can’t show this to anybody, at least not for the time being. Not until you’ve talked to her.”

“Since when are you a fan of doing what Meg says?” Dean asked.

“Since she somehow managed to get her hands on the evidence that Lucifer was literally trying to kill me with his vomiting spell.”

There was a darkness in Sam’s eyes that Castiel hadn’t expected. He was always so calm and in control of himself, it was hard to believe that he could harbor this… anger inside of him.

Dean wasn’t convinced.

“We can’t just sit on this,” he said. “They have to know…”

“Dean, it’s my brother.”

If there was an argument that Dean would understand, it was that one. He knew better than anyone just how important family was, even if that family was less than stellar.

“Let me think about it until tomorrow,” Castiel requested. “I’ll send another owl to Meg and… I don’t know. I just need to think about it.”

The Winchesters nodded. Sam picked up the notebook from the table and handed to Castiel, who held it close to his chest as he climbed the stairs towards his room. There was a flutter of feathers and he realized, with a jolt, that Cleopatra had followed him there. The snowstorm was so bad she probably couldn’t fly to the Owlery. Castiel had nothing to feed her, but she seemed content to just perch on his night stand and hide her head underneath her wing.

Castiel sat down on his mattress. The room was empty, since only he and Sam had stayed over for the Christmas break. The black diary in his hand was small and light, but it still felt like it weighted a ton. It was too dark to read anything and he didn’t want to light a candle and disturb the others, but the impulse to open it and leaf through it, to see what else Lucifer was capable of, was almost too much to resist.

In the end, however, he managed: he hid it inside an empty pillowcase and shoved it underneath his bed. He laid down and tried to sleep, but remained a long time with his eyes wide open, staring at the ceiling as all sorts of terrible thoughts rushed through his head.

 

* * *

 

He woke late the following morning, with the sensation that he hadn’t rested at all. For a moment or two, he stayed right where he was, staring at the ceiling, unable to summon the energy to sit down and face whatever the day would bring.

It was hard to keep lying still when a very angry owl sat down in front of him and hooted. He could have almost sworn that Cleopatra was scowling at him. He sat up and opened the window for her and the big owl disappeared in the white sky above his head.

The storm had ended and every inch of Hogwarts appeared covered in snow. Castiel stayed where he was, breathing in the cool morning air and pretending that he had no more problems than just a girl not wanting to be his girlfriend anymore or the OWLs creeping closer.

Then he leaned underneath his bed, grabbed the pillowcase and the diary it hid and locked it away on his trunk before he went downstairs.

Sam and Dean were in the common room, and if it wasn’t because they were both wearing pajamas and blinking lazily, Castiel could’ve assumed that they had never gone to bed in the first place. They both stared at him as if they thought he was going to have some sort of outburst, but Dean managed to sound almost normal when he asked:

“Hey. Umh… is it… is it safe?”

Castiel nodded, not ready elaborate on that yet, and sat down in front of the pile of presents with his name on them. Dean had given him a Quidditch flag for the Holyhead Harpies and Sam, a book, as he did every year.

There was one present he couldn’t figure out at first, though. It came on a long, rectangular box with a red bow on top, and had no card in it. When he opened it, he found himself staring at a leather case with the words “Broomstick Service Kit” engraved in golden in them.

He stared at it, disconcerted. This was an incredible present, something he had been meaning to buy for himself for a while, but just hadn’t got around to. He was certain it couldn’t have come from his family. They always gave him something more practical and his father… did he even know he was in the Quidditch team? Had someone mentioned it to him?

He would think about it later.

There was also a big box of sweets that Castiel deduced were from Gabriel, accompanied by a rather long note. Well, long for his brother, he supposed:

_Merry Christmas, Cas!_

_I hope you’re having a good time over there. Things here are fine. Father is back from his trip, though just briefly, because his friend Azazel Masters expressed that he wanted to visit us. He brought along both his kids. Weren’t you dating Meg Masters earlier this year?_

_In any case, she’s been staying in your room and spending a lot of time with Luci and Michael. She seems nice, though her brother Tom is a bit of a wanker. Everyone is keeping in line, though, including me. I’m almost sorry you’re not here to see it._

_Hope you have a good time at school and we’ll see you when we return._

_Gabe._

_PS: Lucifer is going nuts because he lost his diary. He told me not to ask you, but if you know of someone who’s seen it at school, let us know._

Castiel had lost both his appetite and the curiosity for the rest of his gifts. This was… it was a lot to process. Wordlessly, he passed Gabriel’s letter to the Winchesters and waited until they reached the same conclusion as him.

“So… Meg convinced her dad to go visit your family,” was the first thing Sam said.

“I think Lucifer might have convinced her,” Castiel speculated. He could almost see it: Lucifer approaching Meg, telling her he was sorry about the way things had ended with Castiel, extending the invitation to her…

He probably thought he was winning Meg back from him. It was almost hilarious to thought that Meg had managed to manipulate him to the point that Lucifer had no idea he was inviting his own enemy into the house. And that was how she had found the diary. And that was why she’d sent it to him with such urgency: Lucifer would look for it everywhere in the house and if he couldn’t find it, he would assume he left it in Hogwarts. He couldn’t have any reason to suspect Meg.

Because if he did, she would be in great danger.

Castiel’s blood almost boiled at the idea. She had literally walked into the lion’s dean, she had lied to Lucifer’s face and she had singlehandedly uncovered what he was up to. She had no back-up and people wouldn’t believe her if she spoke.

And she was staying in his room. That also made him feel some kind of way, but he couldn’t really figure it out. It didn’t matter.

“So… is this a good time to consider talking to someone?” Dean insisted.

“I think it might be,” Castiel said.

After breakfast, the Winchesters and Castiel returned to the common room and talked for a while about how to proceed next. Sam was still thinking they needed to get Meg’s advice first. Dean, on the other hand, seemed to think that this was an opportunity to gain a little bit of fame or, at the very least, to enhance their reputation around the school.

“Really, think about it,” he said, as he helped himself to Castiel’s chocolate frogs. “We would be getting rid of an evil wizard in our midst. We would be stopping him from hurting others, we… sorry, Cas,” he added quickly, as if he’d only just remember who he was talking about.

Castiel willed himself to stop glaring and sighed.

“I’m not saying we shouldn’t tell on him,” Sam said. “I’m saying there’s a chance this will not go the way you think. Lucifer is sneaky, he is a smooth-talker. Even with professors who see through him, like Professor Singer… well, he could still find a way to convince them he had nothing to do with it, you know? He could say we made up his diary to make him look bad.”

“Do you really think that would fly with them?” Dean asked.

“I don’t know. I just know that we have a known grudge against him and people will think we have reasons to want him expelled,” Sam argued. It sounded like he had thought about this at length the previous night but, unlike Castiel, he’d actually arrived to some helpful conclusions.

“So does Meg,” Castiel realized. “The whole school knows Lucifer left her for Lilith and that her… uh, relationship with me didn’t work out. If she went with it to the professors, it would look like she’s trying to have revenge on our entire family.”

They all fell silent as they realized the same thing. It took a few moments for one of them to gather up the courage to say out loud what they were all thinking.

“That’s why she sent it to you. You’re the only one of us who could possibly come forwards with it without seeming like you have an ulterior motive.”

Castiel didn’t speak, but suddenly, he wasn’t so sure he was happy he’d agreed to Meg’s plan after all.

Despite Sam and Dean’s insistence that he needed to eat something, he decided to skip the Christmas feast. The Winchesters tried to get him to change his mind, but after a while, they left promising they would bring something back for him.

Castiel didn’t particularly care if they did or didn’t. He just needed some time alone with his thoughts.

But it seemed like he wasn’t even going to be able to get that, because when he walked into his room, Cleopatra was perched on his window, glaring at him as if she thought it was his fault that he had to work extra time on Christmas. She extended her leg so Castiel could get the letter and continued to watch him closely as he opened it:

_Cas,_

_I’m really sorry to have sent that thing to you. I didn’t know who else to give it to, and I assumed you’d keep it safe. Truth is, I didn’t really think I’d get this far and honestly, now that I have, I trust that you’d know what to do better than I do and I will accept whatever decision you make._

_All through this thing, I was thinking only of myself and how I wanted this to turn out for me. But having spent time with your family, I realized this is something that will affect you much more than it will me. They probably don’t say this to your face, but they really do think highly of you. Even Lucifer does._

_I never should have involved you in this, but I’m glad I did. I’m glad for the parts of it that were real._

_Meg._

_PS: Thank you for the scarf and I hope you enjoy the Broomstick Kit. It was not easy to come by._

It read so much like a goodbye letter that Castiel had to read it twice to fully grasp the meaning of everything Meg was saying.

She was letting him decide whether to tell on Lucifer or not, not because it would be more efficient if he was the one who did it, but because it would affect his family. She’d come to care for him on that level and he just…

He’d given her a stupid scarf that he’d bought weeks in advance. It was violet, which was Meg’s favorite color, but it still seemed like something impersonal and dumb compared to her present.

He wasn’t sure why that seemed important right now, when so many things hung on the balance. Perhaps it because he hadn’t really thought this would be the only Christmas when he’d have a chance to give her a present. Or perhaps that hadn’t really mattered to him before.

He almost wanted to laugh. He couldn’t believe that was what he was thinking about in a moment like that.

He would have to answer to Meg’s letter soon, though he wasn’t sure yet what he was going to tell her. But first, there were other things he needed to do.

He opened the trunk and took out Lucifer’s diary. Everyone was at the feast, so he didn’t run into anyone in the common room or as he walked down the stairs. In fact, he knew that the only person in the castle who wouldn’t be in the Great Hall right then was the person he needed to see the most.

Professor Singer’s door was closed and there was no answer the first time Castiel knocked. He stood outside, nervous. Maybe the professor had decided to join the Christmas celebrations after all. If that was the case, it was going to be very awkward to walk into the Great Hall and request to talk to him. He knocked again and this time, thankfully, a groan came from the inside:

“I’m busy, so this better be important!”

“It is…” Castiel said weakly. He cleared his throat and then tried a little louder: “It is, professor. It’s very important.”

There was silence at the other side of the door. Then some footsteps and finally, Professor Singer opened the door for him, frowning in confusion. Castiel noticed there was an ink stains in his fingers.

“Milton?”

“Can I talk to you, professor?” Castiel requested. “It’s… it’s about my brother.”

Professor Singer stared at him as if he didn’t know what to make of this strange visit, but just as Castiel expected, in the end he opened the door wide and beckoned him to come in.

“Tell me what I can do for you, son.”

Castiel sat in front of the desk and started telling him the story he’d made up on his way there: about how Gabriel told him about Lucifer’s missing diary, about how he’d had a hunch that he should check in one of Lucifer’s hiding spots, about how he couldn’t resist taking a look inside to find something to tease his brother about (something that every young brother was tempted to do, of course) and, finally, about what he’d found in there.

He didn’t mention Meg’s name once.

By the time he’d finished speaking, Professor Singer’s eyes were wider than he’d ever seen them and he wouldn’t stop touching his beard. He opened a drawer of his desk, fished out a flask and took a long, drawn out swig.

“Do you have any idea of what could happen now, boy?”

Castiel straightened his shoulders and lifted up his chin.

“I do, professor. But this needs to be known.”

Professor Singer nodded, solemnly.

“Well, then. Let’s make it known.”


	4. Chapter 4

It was not as Castiel had imagined it. Then again, he wasn’t sure what he’d imagine would happen next.

Professor Singer brought over Headmaster Turner so Castiel could repeat his story, and then he had to do the same thing in front of Professor Crowley, who wasn’t happy at all with having to hear all of that.

“It could be some sort of mistake!” he argued, over and over. “We need to be sure that this diary truly belongs to whom we believe it belongs to, before we passed any judgment.”

Castiel would later find out that he was nervous because he had coveted the Headmaster position (despite Headmaster Turner being in very good health and having absolutely no plans to retire) but, since he was the Head of Slytherin, having a dark wizard doing his deeds right underneath his nose wasn’t a good look for him.

His father was called over urgently. He was also not pleased to hear what they’d found out, but Castiel barely got to see him before Lucifer was brought over to Headmaster Turner’s office and things took a turn for the dramatic.

“That isn’t mine!” he argued over and over again. “I wouldn’t do this! Father, this is ridiculous, I demand…”

“Be quiet, Lucifer,” their father said. “You’re in enough trouble as it is.”

He didn’t sound angry or disappointed or any of the things that Castiel thought he’d be. Just very tired and very sad. When he looked at the man again, Castiel had to wonder why he’d been so intimidated of this short, slightly disheveled man who looked so… defeated.

“I’m afraid the rules are clear,” Headmaster Turner said, with his hands tightly knit over the desk. “We’re going to have to expel him.”

Lucifer screamed and shouted, denying his guilt over and over. Just like with his father, Castiel was seeing a new side of him that he wasn’t certain what to make of. His brother had always seemed so smart, so in control, that him losing his composure like that was uncomfortable and more than a little sad.

He would have pitied him if it wasn’t because he knew what Lucifer was really capable of now.

Their father accepted the Headmaster’s decision without protest.

“I’m taking you home now,” he told Lucifer, while Castiel trotted behind the two of them, trying with all his might not to be noticed.

“And what, you’re going to lock me away forever?” Lucifer asked, red in the face with fury.

Their father just sighed.

“Of course not. I’m going to send you to stay with your Aunt Amara for a time. You’re of age, though, so if you chose a different path, that is up to you and I can’t really stop you.” He stopped and turned to look at Lucifer again. “But I want to make something very, very clear. If you ever hurt an innocent person, I will not defend you. I will not lift a finger to help you. You’ll be on your own, do you hear me?”

Lucifer’s eye flared with fury as they turned towards Castiel.

“You!” he shouted, pointing a finger at him. “This is all your fault!”

Before Castiel could argue with that, their father stepped between the two of them.

“Don’t blame your brother for your own mistakes.”

Lucifer clicked his tongue with derision and turned his back on them, striding away without another word. Their father sighed and ran his fingers through his hair before turning his attention to Castiel.

“You look pale, Castiel.”

“I…” Castiel swallowed and forced himself to stop looking at Lucifer’s back. “Have I done the right thing, father?”

He didn’t know what he expected to get from that question. Perhaps a bit of reassurance. Perhaps some consolation. Just… something. Anything more than what he actually got, which was his father placing a hand on his shoulder and shooting him the same sad look as before.

“Only time will tell, Castiel,” he said. “Only time will tell.”

What time told Castiel in the next few weeks or so was that people were sooner more ready to forgive a potential dark wizard than they were a snitch.

Sam and Dean stuck by him, of course, as did most of the Gryffindor house. But he could feel the eyes of both Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs glued to his back, he could hear the whispers that always followed him around.

Slytherins, though… if they hadn’t been fond of him before, they hated him now. Lucifer was a well-known leader among them and everyone who was remotely close to him was now watched closely by all the teachers. They seemed to think that if one of them was a bad apple, it wouldn’t be too out of the realm of possibility that all of them were.

Castiel was ambushed by Lilith and two more seven-year Slytherins while on his way to Defense Against the Dark Arts class. He saw them coming and turn around to take an alternate route (not because he was scared of them. He simply thought that confronting them was more trouble than it was worth), but as soon as he did, two more came from the other end of the hallway, blocking his way.

He was trapped.

“I’m sure you think you’re so smart, don’t you, blood traitor?” Lilith asked, stepping towards him.

Castiel lifted his eyes and locked them with her. She was almost as tall as him and she had numbers on her side, but if it came to that, he was more than willing to put up a fight.

“I’m sure you think this is something that I should be scared of,” he said, with a shrug. “We’d both be wrong.”

Lilith grinned at him, a gesture that came out more like she was showing him her teeth, about to jump on him and rip off his throat.

“Oh, you’re going to tell me all about how Lucifer was your family and you were very conflicted about telling anyone? Is that it?”

“Lucifer is my family,” Castiel replied, staring back at her, unblinking. “But I wasn’t conflicted. Because it was the right thing to do.”

That was a lie, but Lilith didn’t need to know that.

Lilith snarled at him with disgust.

“You Gryffindors are all so self-righteous, you don’t think…”

Someone cleared their throat behind them, loudly.

“Is there a problem here?” Professor Mills asked.

The Slytherins stepped back and all smiled.

“No problem at all, professor,” Lilith said. “We were just making friendly conversation, that’s all.”

Professor Mills hummed, skeptical.

“Well, it’s time for that conversation to end, now, or you’re all going to be late to classes. Scram, come on.”

Lilith’s entourage did so at once, but not before glaring at Castiel as they passed him by.

“This isn’t over,” Lilith muttered before disappearing around the corner.

Professor Mills seemed to know exactly what that attempt of intimidation had been, because she turned to Castiel with a half-smile.

“Don’t let them get you down, Castiel. Most people think that what you did was very brave.”

Castiel wasn’t certain that was the right way for it. And in any case, it wasn’t his classmates’ opinion that got him down those days.

“They say you turned your back on your family,” Becky told him without Castiel really prompting her to. She’d just come over to talk to them ‘because Castiel must be going through a hard time’. He suspected it also had something to do with her never-ending thirst for gossip and her trying to find out even more details about the whole scandal.

“Who is they?” Dean asked, rolling his eyes. “Why do they care so much? It’s not like it’s their family.”

“And ‘they’ aren’t the only ones who think it,” Castiel said, somberly.

Raphael wasn’t talking to him and by the few words Gabriel told him, it didn’t seem like he was going to any time soon.

“You rocked the boat too much,” Gabriel explained, shaking his head. “I told you to ask around, not to go on a dark wizard hunt.”

“You… you knew about what Lucifer was doing?” Castiel asked him horrified.

“’Know’ is a bit too strong a word,” Gabriel said. “I mean, we all suspected but… he was going to grow out of it eventually, Cas. That’s what Michael always said.”

“And what if Michael was wrong?”

Gabriel raised his hands in the air, as if to stop Castiel’s (very logical, in Castiel’s opinion) protests about that notion.

“All I’m saying is that I hope there was another way to go about this, brother,” he explained. “That’s all.”

Castiel wished it too. Especially because, just as Gabriel had announced, Michael hadn’t thought that Lucifer’s activities were that big of a deal, but the fact that they were out in the open now? Well, that was not to be tolerated.

 _You’ve embarrassed this family_ , he wrote to Castiel, in what he suspected was a normal letter because Michael didn’t want to risk further mockery by sending a Howler, even if that was what he really, really wanted to do. _You’ve exposed us to ridicule and you’ve essentially ruined Lucifer’s life. These rumors will follow him forever. I hope you’re happy with what you’ve accomplished. Father says that we shouldn’t be angry with you, but Castiel, you need to learn things aren’t always white and black._

That was as far as Castiel got to read before he threw the letter into the fireplace. He really didn’t need to know what Michael thought of his actions. He could imagine them already.

In fact, the only person who didn’t come to express to him exactly what she thought about what he’d done was Meg.

Castiel told himself that of course she wouldn’t want to talk to him at first. She wouldn’t want to further feed the rumor mill by outright talking to him and with the Slytherins under constant surveillance, it would be hard for her to find a way to talk to him as openly as she had before. And she risked being ostracized by her own House if she did show herself to be too friendly with him.

But the weeks passed by. The rumors quieted down. The Slytherins were still all scowling and muttering threats under their breaths every time Castiel walked by any of them, but the professors’ vigilance was still constant enough that he felt that he didn’t need to worry about them. They weren’t outright coming after him, so Castiel could go on as he did all along: studying for the OWLs, doing his homework, playing Quidditch. Sometimes he could almost pretend that nothing out of the ordinary had even happened.

And then he would catch a glimpse of Meg in the library, he would smell something that had even a faint scent of lavender, and he’d be reminded of how that entire experience had begun.

He just wanted her to talk to him. He wanted to know that it hadn’t all been for nothing.

“I’m starting to think she played you,” Dean said one day while they were heading back to the castle after a practice. Despite how overwhelmed Castiel felt sometimes, they had still managed to do well against Slytherin and Ravenclaw. If they won against Hufflepuff, it was more than likely that they were going to face Slytherin again in the final match for the cup.

“What do you mean?” Castiel asked. He hadn’t mentioned Meg all day, but his mood was foul, which he supposed the Winchesters now knew meant that he was thinking of her.

“She knew you liked her and she used that to play the victim, woe-is-me, won’t somebody blow the whistle on my ex in my place?” Dean explained. “You get all the scorn and she gets her revenge without getting her hands dirty.”

“Weren’t you the one who thought we’d be heroes for telling on Lucifer?” Sam asked.

“Well, I mean, yeah, but I didn’t expect it to be all roses and ducklings. I figured the Slytherins wouldn’t be too pleased with us at all.”

Expect for how he hadn’t mentioned that at any point while they were talking about what to do with Lucifer’s diary. Castiel decided to let Sam point that out. He was in too much misery at that point to really get the tone right.

Sam put a hand on his arm.

“Look, Cas, if you need answers that badly, why don’t you go and talk to her?”

“It’s not that simple,” Castiel said.

“Why not?”

It was hard to explain. On one hand, he didn’t want to rub off his social pariah status on Meg. On the other… he felt like she didn’t want that either, because there had been plenty of chances for them to talk and she hadn’t taken any of them. All he could think that meant was that she didn’t want to talk to him.

The parts that had been real weren’t enough to get her to talk to him…

And as much as that possibility hurt him, he had to consider it and respect it.

“Maybe later, at some point,” Castiel said, shrugging. “We still have a lot to do.”

And so the year went on, inexorable. Winter gave way to spring and the mass hysteria about the final exams that broke early in April mercifully gave Castiel a break from all the rumors and stares. He and Sam spent hours in the library, well into the night, and as Dean prepared for his NEWTs, Castiel had the impression they didn’t seem him at all during those weeks.

Gwen was the only team member that didn’t have any standardized tests coming up her way, so when the rest of the Quidditch team actually met up for practice, she was the only one without dark circles under her eyes and who still seemed to have some sort of will to live left in her. That was probably why she was the one who spotted Meg coming up towards the field.

“What is she doing here?” she asked.

The other six members of the team turned in unison. Dorothy and Charlie moved forwards, their bats in their hand as if they wanted to hit Meg with them.

Meg, sensing the hostility, stopped at the edge of the field.

“Castiel, can I talk to you?” she asked.

She had her shoulders straightened and her chin up, looking proud and calm. The spring breeze swept her long dark hair. When Castiel approached her, he noticed that her big brown eyes look darker than usual, because she was just as exhausted as everyone else.

“What do you need?” he asked her, trying to sound neutral. He still felt like it came out too brusque.

Meg didn’t seem to care much for that.

“I need to talk to you alone.”

“Look, anything you have to say to Cas, you can say it in front of everyone,” Dean said. “So…”

Meg scoffed, annoyed.

“Fine. Lilith is going to curse your broom during the final match.”

“I knew it!” Charlie exclaimed, turning to Dorothy. “I told you I saw her next to the broom’s closet! I knew she was up to something!”

“Are you sure?” Castiel asked, frowning.

“Would I come all the way here if I wasn’t?”

“Hang on, why are you telling us about this?” Sam asked. “Why don’t you go to a professor or to the Headmaster?”

Meg threw her head back. The familiar scent of lavender hit Castiel’s senses so hard that he was dizzy for a second or two and missed the beginning of Meg’s explanation.

“… she’s not stupid. She knows that if they catch her doing anything she’s going to end up like Lucifer. So if you want to try and get evidence that she is up to something, be my guest. But it’s not going to be as simple as you’re thinking.”

“What evidence do _you_ have?” Benny asked him, narrowing his eyes at her. “For all we know, you could be telling this to make us paranoid and demoralize us.”

“You know, Lafitte, with that way of thinking, you could make a good Slytherin.” Meg snickered. “I’m just giving you a fair warning. You can do whatever you want.”

And with that, she turned their back on them and stalked away.

Castiel remained paralyzed for a heartbeat or two, until his lavender-soaked brain finally ordered him to go after her.

“Meg!” he screamed. “Meg, wait!”

Meg didn’t stop, not until he broke into a run and put a hand on her shoulder, at which point she pulled away from him as if his touch burned her. When she turned to him, it was Castiel who had to take a step backwards. Her eyes were alight with such a mixture of emotions – anger, sadness, something indescribable and heartbreaking – that all he could do was stare at her and get overwhelmed once more by how much he wanted to kiss her once again.

He wrestled with those thoughts enough to ask a coherent question.

“Why did you come and tell me that?”

Meg closed her eyes.

“I was sort of hoping that I wouldn’t have to answer that.”

“What do you mean?” Castiel frowned and took a step closer to her. “Meg…”

She put a hand up on his shoulder. The way she always did when she wanted to keep him away or to stop him from kissing her when they were alone. And even though it had been months, Castiel still the same crushing disappointment as usual.

“You were so much braver than I had expected,” she told him, whispering. “I never thought the price you’d pay would be so high, and you still went ahead and…” She stopped and sucked in a breath, as if she needed to still herself before she kept talking. “Look. It’s not like I stopped caring about you. But if you hate me, I don’t think I can handle that.”

Castiel stared. How did she always manage to turn his world upside down each and every time…?

“I don’t… I don’t hate you.”

That took her aback.

“You… you don’t?”

“No. Not at all. I don’t think I ever could hate you.”

“Oh.”

They looked at each other in the middle of the blooming meadow, as the weight of the words they’d said finally landed on them.

“Is that why you kept away all this time?” Castiel asked, finally. “Because you thought I hated you?”

“Well… that and I had to keep my head down,” Meg answered. “Lucifer and Lilith are still writing to each other. I don’t want to make an enemy when I leave here.”

Of course. Castiel sighed.

“Meg… you said I was brave. I wasn’t. You were,” he said. “But bravery doesn’t end with one grand act. You have to also deal with the consequences afterwards, whether you were right or wrong and whether people will think you were.” He stopped, not even sure where he was going with this anymore. “If you think we can’t be… friends or… because of what they will say or think, that’s your decision, of course. But I want you to know that I don’t care about any of that. I never did.”

He went quiet, because Meg’s eyes were making him lose his train of thought. He wasn’t even sure what he wanted to say anymore. All he knew was that she was there and he wanted to hug her and hold her and kiss her until they were both out of breath.

Instead of doing any of that, he simply reached out and held her hand. She didn’t pull away, so that was a start.

“Come see the Quidditch game?” he requested.

That disconcerted her again.

“The… game?”

“It’s the final match. We’re playing against Slytherin. It would mean a lot if you came to root for me.”

Meg raised an eyebrow.

“You want me to root against my own House?”

“You never cared much for Quidditch to begin with. Just… come to see me? And maybe after the game we can… talk some more about all of this.”

She said nothing for a moment or two. She licked her lips and leaned closer, but before Castiel could even dare to hope she pulled away again.

“I have… I have to study a lot, yet.”

“Oh.”

“But I’ll… I’ll see what I can do.”

This time, when she turned around and fled, Castiel couldn’t find it in himself to follow her.

 

* * *

 

There were very few games that Castiel had played before and very few that he could remember afterwards when he had been so nervous. Not only because this was a final match, not just because the Cup was on the balance. No, it was because despite their assessment that they wouldn’t let paranoia get the better of them, the team still had gone out of their way to check the brooms for hexes and curses and they had taken to walking in pairs (with Sam and Dean escorting Castiel everywhere, even more so than usual) to make sure no one could be attacked while alone. Adding the extra layer of leftover anxiety and exhaustion from the exams didn’t help either.

And of course, there was Meg.

They hadn’t talked again after that day in the field, and of course, she hadn’t really made any promises about being there. But Castiel still wanted to believe that she’d be.

“Alright, team,” Dean said in the dressing room. “We’ve had a great season, but let’s not let it get to our heads. We have a strategy and we need to see it play out. This is mine and Benny’s last year with you and I want us to have a great victory to send me off with, so it’d be awfully nice of you if you get there and win.”

“And what if we don’t win?” Gwen asked.

“Then I’m going to curse you so badly your grandchildren will have lazy eyes,” Dean threatened, and despite his overtly serious expression, everyone in the dressing room laughed.

It did very little for the knot in Castiel’s stomach, though.

The crowd roared when they stepped on the field, and in the distance, it was hard to tell the cheering from the jeering. Professor Mills stepped between the two teams and urged Dean and Guy, the Slytherin captain, to shake hands. The did so while looking at each other ferociously in the eye.

“I want a fair game, with no cheating,” Professor Mills warned them. “No nonsense will be tolerated in the field, do you hear me?”

Both captains nodded and the players mounted their brooms. The ringing of the whistle came loud and long and Castiel kicked the ground with special force. His robes flapped around him and the noises of the crowd became muffled by the wind.

_They all look so small._

There was another whistle and then he had no more time to keep thinking about anything else.

Sam caught the Quaffle fast and flew past one of the Slytherin Chasers with grace. Castiel followed him quickly, diving in and flipping over to avoid a Bludger flying directly at his face.

The Slytherins might not have hexed his broom, but by the way they were playing, it was obvious they were angry and they were focusing all of that in Castiel. Every time he caught the Quaffle, their Batters managed to find a Bludger to send his way and their Chasers all took turns to tag him, so he always had to pass it to whatever Winchesters was closer to him. It didn’t seem to matter to the Slytherins that they were basically leaving the brothers to do whatever they wanted, because they were either too mad at Castiel to care or they just had amazing confident in their Keeper, because their strategy mainly consisted in making it impossible for him to play.

Dean, of course, managed to think up a way to make that work in their favor.

“Keep them out of our way, Cas!” he told him when he flew past by him.

Castiel hadn’t imagine that his last game was going to be like that, but he figured if that was the best he could do. So he started flying in zigzag, as fast as he could so the other Chasers would always be on his trail. Sam and Dean faked trying to pass the Quaffle to him and instead tried to keep it between the two, but they couldn’t reach the goalposts at all, not without Castiel’s help.

They were playing hindered and, Castiel understood, that was exactly how the Slytherins wanted. They were distracting them until their Seeker caught the Snitch.

He looked around the field to try and place Gwen, who tagged very closely to the Slytherin Seeker, but neither of them seemed to be making any progress in finding the small golden ball. Castiel hated to leave it all to one player, they were too many variables, so he signaled for Dean to ask for a time out.

The floated towards the center of the field.

“Pass me the Quaffle.”

The younger Winchester stared at him, surprised.

“Cas, they’re going to…”

“I can handle them,” Castiel assured him. “Just pass me the Quaffle.”

Sam looked over towards Dean, who barely hesitated for a second before he nodded.

“If Cas says he can handle them, then he can,” he said. “We need to score to back Gwen up.”

And with that, they went back to the game.

It wasn’t as easy as Castiel had made it sound. He still had to dodge and turn and barely had time to handle the ball before all the Chasers and Batters focused their attention on them, but at least Sam and Dean had some back up. They still couldn’t make it all the way to the goalposts, but…

Something caught his eye in the Slytherin tribune.

He flew past it so fast and then he had to move aside before one of the other Chasers knock him off his broom, so he couldn’t be sure he’d seen it. When the Quaffle was in Dean’s possession once more and he got once second to breathe, he looked again, and this time he saw it pretty clearly.

In the middle of the sea of green and silver, there was a single violet scarf.

Meg had come to watch him play.

His pulse quickened and suddenly, all the Bludgers in the world flying at him couldn’t stop him. The next time the Quaffle fell in his hand, he didn’t even bother to look for Dean or Sam. He dived in, and flew and spin, became a bolt of lightning that the other players couldn’t even begin to catch up to.

The Slytherin Keeper flew at him from the goalposts, but at the last second, Castiel pointed his broom up and threw the Quaffle as he soared.

“… Milton scores the first goal for Gryffindor!” Alicia Banes, a Hufflepuff girl, announced.

The crowd underneath screamed and the Slytherin team exchanged horrified looks. That wasn’t supposed to happen.

The rest of the game, Castiel couldn’t even remember. He was in the air, spiraling up and down, spinning and feinting so fast he was unstoppable. The Slytherin Chasers still tried to slow him down, but every time they did, Castiel caught a glimpse of the violet scarf and it only made him go faster. By the time the Slytherin team wised up to the fact they needed to actually play, they were forty points behind.

“Keep it up, Cas!” Dorothy shouted at him as she sent a Bludger in Guy’s direction.

Castiel was planning to. He could have keep playing for days and anyone who even thought about getting in the way had no idea…

“Campbell makes a dive!” Alicia Banes screamed. “Has she spotted the Snitch? Is she going to…? Yes! Gryffindor catches the Snitch!”

Professor Mills blew her whistle loud and long, signaling with her hands that the game was over.

“Gryffindor wins the game, one hundred and ninety points to twenty! Gryffindor wins the Quidditch Cup!”

As he flew down, the cheering and scream became deafening. The entirety of the Gryffindor House was racing down towards the field, running towards them in an uncontainable wave of golden and red. Castiel landed and raised his hand to greet his house mates…

Somebody tackled him to the ground.

The person on top of him was small and if she hadn’t caught him off-guard, she probably wouldn’t have managed to knock him out. Though looking up at her red face, her wide grin and the violet scarf around her neck despite the warm weather would have been enough to leave him breathless regardless.

“Meg,” Castiel sighed. “I wasn’t…”

She put her hands on both his cheeks and pulled him in for a kiss.

And despite knowing that probably the whole school was watching them, that the glares and the whispers were going to start again the very next day, that his entire family was going to judge him for getting with Lucifer’s ex, Castiel melted into her lips and the whole world disappeared.

 

* * *

 

The fun thing about having only been able to kiss Meg under certain circumstances before was that now that he could kiss her whenever he wanted, he wasn’t going to stop doing it.

So as the school year wrapped up, as people started saying their goodbyes and getting ready to go back home, Castiel found himself using up every moment of his free time to snog with Meg. Dean protested and said it was disgusting, but Castiel really couldn’t bring himself to care. He spent plenty of afternoons sitting on a trunk by the lake, with Meg propped up on his laps, running his fingers through her hair as if he was trying to memorize the feel of its very texture.

“Can I send you an owl every single day?” Castiel asked her in one such occasion. “I’m sure my home is going to be a mess and I’m going to miss you dearly.”

Meg laughed as if she thought Castiel was exaggerating, but she nuzzled his neck as she answered:

“Sure. I mean, it’s not like I’m going to have any friends left after the entire school saw me root for the opposite Quidditch team and kiss the blood traitor. I guess that makes me both a House and a blood traitor by association.”

She said in a light tone, as if she was jesting, but Castiel could sense the concern underneath her words.

“Meg, you don’t have to…”

“No, I’m sorry.” She lifted her head and sighed. “I know you don’t like me making fun of that, but it’s maybe the only way I can deal with it all. You were right that bravery doesn’t end with one grand act.” She made a pause to intertwine her fingers with his. “But this is worth all the scorn in the world. Besides, what they think it’s temporary. I get the feeling you and I will not be.”

Castiel was glad she thought that way, because he felt the same way. He pulled him closer to her, intending to ask him something else when she added:

“Hey… maybe I can convince my dad to let you visit us.”

“You think that’s possible?” Castiel asked, suddenly very interested in that idea.

“Sure. You owed us a visit after we were at your place on Christmas,” she reminded them. “And I’m sure Dad’s going to like to meet the Milton that’s willing to date his unruly daughter.”

Castiel smiled at the idea and ran his fingers through her hair once more. The afternoon was calm and silent, the lake’s waters waving and falling underneath the soft breeze. He pulled Meg closer and took in the peace. He was certain it wasn’t going to last.

“If you think about it, you could make it the other way around,” he said. “You’re dating the Miltons’ blood traitor.”

Meg laughed once more.

“Now, that’s the spirit!”


End file.
